


Skyland Mountain (AU)

by JenAndrews



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Drama, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2020-01-04 05:17:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 34,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18336938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenAndrews/pseuds/JenAndrews
Summary: Without a partner and with nobody to trust, Fox Mulder plots his own demise. But fate has other plans for him today.





	Skyland Mountain (AU)

**Skyland Mountain**

 

****

 

Warrenton, Virginia, September, 1994

10.39 a.m.

 

Why was he still breathing? He'd pondered many mysteries in his life, and why his body insisted on surviving when his mind had given up all will to continue existing, was just one more to add to the list.

Three shots of heroin coursing through his veins and here he was, not only alive, but inexplicably conscious. Alert and aware enough to register the fly crawling across his right temple. No doubt drawn in by the beads of sweat running languidly down his forehead. The weather outside was just beginning to warm up, but the temperature inside the car was already stifling. His leather jacket insulated the heat from his body, making this relatively mild morning feel like the peak of the summer.

He swatted listlessly at the insect. His eyes darted to follow its movements as it landed on the headliner above him. He stared up at it, as he shifted uncomfortably on the back seat of the rental car. It buzzed and twitched its wings, and Fox Mulder found himself in envy of such a simple and inconsequential life form.

Twenty eight days. Twenty eight days of mating, feeding and reproducing was all it had to suffer. No awareness of anything greater than itself, of the universe and its unending parade of horrors, untruths and disappointments. No shirt and tie to don every morning, forced to face another day of mediocrity and inertia. No futile pursuit of truth and justice in a world manufactured by evil men and sewn-together by fallacies.

This was a being incapable of hopelessness, of loss and pain. How much easier it would be to exist in this world as a fly - ill-fated though it may be. Mulder himself believed his only purpose in this world was to be crushed and exterminated. At least if he were a fly, he would remain in blissful ignorance of that fact.

Mulder groaned and swiped the sweat away from his eyes. He was dazed and sleepy, but coming down from the high at an insufferably fast pace. He could almost think clearly, and from that clarity stemmed an insidious pain. His awareness of just how inconsequential his every action, every thought, every day of his life had been, plagued him every moment. It ripped and tore at his insides like some metaphysical phage. It was determined to end his life, and after many years of fighting within himself, he was ready to surrender. Only his body resisted now, but he knew in a very short time, it too would be persuaded. It would be forced to agree to the inevitable.

Death did not scare him. In fact he embraced the idea. He would know no reprieve from this desolation in this lifetime. The drugs failed to work anymore. Nothing could free him. Even in sleep, his mind was plagued by nightmares - of his sister, of his failures, of all the horrors he had witnessed befall the innocent. The faces of all the children, snatched from their beds, from parks, from the arms of their loving parents. Their small bodies used up and disposed in some shallow grave, left abandoned in the cold earth to be fed upon by wildlife. There was no escape from the things he had seen. Death would be his only salvation.

He swallowed dryly, and the back of his parched throat stung. He knew he needed water, and food, but partaking in activities such as eating and drinking seemed counterproductive. He had gradually shied away from all the things that were keeping him healthy and alive. He couldn't remember the last time he had showered and shaved. Not that it mattered to him. But the dehydration was uncomfortable enough that he now entertained the idea of seeking water. He briefly imagined the feel of cool liquid running down the back of his throat and soothing his thirst away.

Mulder tilted his head back and looked up through the passenger's side window. The sky was blue, sunny and clear - the weather was perfect by all accounts. Somehow that made him feel cold inside - angry even. He thought to himself that the heavens were bearing false witness, for there was no such thing as a perfect day. It was a deception. The happy skies veiled all the pain being felt on the ground below. It didn't hear the screams, and the lies, or acknowledge his pain or anyone else’s. Maybe that was why he'd spent most of his life in the dark and the shadows. Part of him resented the light, and the sunshine for its subterfuge. There was no truth to be found there. The truth was buried in dark and unholy places, not intended to be seen by the light of day.

Mulder hoisted his upper body up into an upright position, feeling the world spin a little as he did. He remembered the half-empty bottle of water he’d shoved into the glove compartment a day earlier. Throwing open the door on his left side with a little more force than necessary, he exited the burgundy-coloured rental car.

He had pulled over on the side of the road in a somewhat secluded area. Quiet enough that he was unlikely to be noticed by law enforcement, but not so remote that his body wouldn’t be found for months. He wasn’t sure if either of his parents had any true care for him - he suspected not - but he disliked the thought of putting them through burying a putrefying corpse.

Mulder still cared for them deeply, but losing his sister had fundamentally changed all of them. Deep down he felt as though he had been orphaned a long time ago. He believed that his parents had not only blamed him for Samantha’s disappearance - as he did himself - but they must also have silently wished that it was him that had been taken that night. That was a wish he also shared. Perhaps he could have avoided a life filled with mediocrity and unnecessary torment.

For so long he had believed that he walked a righteous path, fuelled by his passion to vindicate the memory of that night. To finally be able to reject it as the trauma-induced fantasy of an adolescent, that some claimed it to be. For so long he had the courage of his convictions, but over the past two years, his conviction had crumbled into self-doubt and dissension. He didn’t know what he believed anymore - nothing felt tangible enough to put any faith into. Even the ground under his feet felt like it could wash away. There was nothing to hold onto.

He climbed into the driver’s seat and reached into the glove box to retrieve the water. Mulder quickly unscrewed the cap before tossing it over his shoulder and onto the back seat. He threw his head back and guzzled the water down, only stopping when there were a couple of ounces left. This he poured into his hand and splashed over his face, hoping he would become more alert.

He had been heading to Blue Ridge Parkway, intending to reach Skyland Mountain. Not for any particular reason, it was just where he felt drawn. Motivated by only a vague inclination to view and appreciate nature in his final days.

He had spent so much of his adult life chained to a desk of some variety. Very unlike his childhood, when his days were filled with climbing trees and skipping stones, riding bikes and playing games with the neighbourhood children. As he thought about it, he wondered if that was the only time in his life where he was truly happy. Happiness was such an abstract idea to him now. Not a word or a feeling he could relate to his human experience.

Mulder threw the empty bottle into the passenger’s seat. He was awake now, enough to make it to the top of the mountain by noon. He doubted he would encounter much traffic, given Skyland Summit was primarily a winter retreat, and likely saw much fewer guests during the summer. The majority of families would have visited weeks before, as summer vacation had recently ended and children had now returned to school. It was a relatively popular ski resort, but served primarily as a hiking, climbing and camp ground during the warmer months.

He’d visited once before, many years ago, while working on a case. A woman had claimed to have been abducted by a UFO from the peak of the mountain, right around this time of year. Though after interviewing the dozen other visitors that were at the summit that night, he could find no one else to corroborate her story. Like most of the cases he investigated, he turned up with no tangible evidence. Only a vague and unclear story which held as much weight as smoke in the air.

It served as just one example of what an unmitigated joke his life was. No self-respecting agent would pay mind to such outlandish claims. If he hadn’t been haunted his whole life by such a similar experience, or at least a memory of that experience, perhaps he wouldn’t either. But it didn’t really matter now. He had lived his life, and good or bad, sanity or madness, it would all be over soon.

Mulder scrubbed at his whiskers and rubbed his eyes. He’d hated what he had become, long before he’d put that needle in his arm the first time. He took a hard and purposeful look at himself in the rearview mirror as he turned the key in the ignition.

***

He had been driving for well over an hour, barely passing any traffic once he had exited the town below. He was half way up the mountain now, probably closer to the peak than the foot. The air conditioner hummed and spluttered but did very little to cool down the vehicle. He considered stopping momentarily to remove his jacket, but continued to ignore his discomfort. Weather this warm was unexpected, being on the cusp of the fall season.

The sun was bright and throwing a glare across the windshield. It was likely pushing up to ninety degrees outside the car and likely over one-hundred within. He could feel the sweat dripping down his spine and drenching the fabric of his shirt on his lower back. He was sticky and dazed, wondering how his body even had this much liquid to surrender. His eyes stung as tried to blink the sweat away.

There were only a few seconds in which he lost consciousness, but due to the sharp bend he was approaching, that was enough for him to drift into the oncoming lane. He hadn’t passed a car in more than twenty minutes, making this chance encounter even more unlucky. He could have passed out, and driven straight off the edge of the gully, and it wouldn’t have mattered to him. His life had no purpose to continue, but he could not speak for the driver and possible passengers of the silver sedan he was about to hit.

Within half of a second after he realised what was happening, the oncoming car swerved to avoid a collision. Mulder slammed his foot onto the breaks, the wheels of the car smoking and sliding, screeching to a halt just a few feet from the barricade.

He knew before he even looked behind him that he was not going to see the car. There was no way they had avoided crashing head on, without that car turning so sharply that they had driven off the edge. The road was too narrow and the response time too late. His heart was racing as he jumped out of the car. When he scanned the area he could see no evidence of another vehicle, and as he ran down the road he allowed himself to momentarily entertain the idea that he had imagined it - that this was all the hallucination of some mad, delusional, dehydrated junkie. He didn’t want to believe that he had hurt someone, or possibly cost them their life.

As he peered over the side of the road and down into the ravine, searching for signs of the car, his subconscious attempts to absolve himself were replaced by terrible visions of what he may find. He imagined the sedan wrecked and on fire, mother dead and bloodied, slumped against the steering wheel, as her children pleaded for help from the backseat. He wasn’t sure if the faint screams he was hearing in his ears were real or imagined.

The slope of the hill was extremely rocky and steep - it would be very hard to scale without climbing gear. It was covered in brush and small trees growing out the side of the cliff face at a forty-five degree angle. It was impossible to tell just how far down the nearest landing was as the view of the ground was obscured by tree tops.

Mulder paced up and down the side of the road, leaning out as far as he could in an attempt to spot the vehicle. He was panicking, his heart racing, simultaneously both desperate to find the person that may need his help and praying that that person didn’t exist. His apprehension was resolved the moment he spotted a taillight peeking out between some shrubs about ten yards below. He couldn’t be sure, but it appeared the car was being held up by some tree branches, facing down but slightly on its side.

He had only been surveying the car for a few moments, when he saw the car lurch downwards, only a foot or so, but it was enough to convince Mulder that the car was at risk of plummeting to the ground at any moment. If that happened it could kill anyone that remained alive. He glanced at his car twenty yards down the road, considering his options. If he attempted to reach emergency services, there was a strong possibility that the car would be gone by the time they arrived. If he climbed down himself with no gear, there was a good chance he could be injured. No part of him cared about harming himself, but if he fell to his death, he couldn’t help anyone in that car or alert others to do so.

He stared down at the car, knowing he had to take some sort of action.

Another second made up his mind completely. There was a faint cracking sound and the car fell downwards - further this time - a yard or more. If the rest of the tree were to give way the sedan could be gone at any moment.

There was no clear path downwards, the drop was almost sheer - a wall of rocks and shrubbery. Mulder crawled down onto the ground, levering himself over the edge on his belly. He knew there was no real strategy to be made here, he had to slide down and hope for the best. Hope he could get his grip on something on the way down and hope he didn’t fall further than the car.

He made it down about four yards with only a few scrapes and scratches to his hands. Making footholds where he could find them and levering himself off of old plant roots and whatever rocks seemed unlikely to slip out of the surrounding earth. His thick leather jacket worked well in protecting the skin on his arms and cushioning his front against the jagged rocks. He reached an impasse however, once he found a small ledge. There was nothing to lower himself down to. It was about a foot deep, enough to stead his feet on, but not wide enough to lower his knees onto.

Both the cliff face to his immediate left and right was dipped and hollow. Without anything to anchor himself with, or he was to suddenly become Spiderman, there was no way down… short of falling that is. The car was about seven yards below, and he guessed he had about a fifty-percent chance of sustaining serious injury if he were to jump into the surrounding trees. He’d heard of people spraining limbs from falling less than a foot. Conversely he’d once encountered a case that reported a man falling nine stories without so much as a scratch.

He could see nothing of the occupants in the vehicle - his view was still obscured by the thick greenery. A wave of nausea hit him as he again imagined what he may find when he reached the car. The pictures of all the children he’d seen in his life, broken and bloodied, flashed through his mind. Only an hour ago he had believed he could not possibly sink any lower. But if he had caused the injury or death of another, especially a child, he would go to his grave not only a failure and a fool, but also as a monster. He would become all he had sought to fight against his entire life. All he had ever wanted was to protect the innocent, and ensure the guilty were held accountable for their transgressions. Now he was the transgressor and he had to do everything in his power to put right what he had done wrong.

He jumped. Mulder was freefalling from the ledge and landed with a sickening crunch into the tree below. He hugged onto the tree limb, hoping it wouldn’t give way with his added weight. His foot was wedged at an unnatural angle between two branches. The pain shooting through his foot told him it was probably sprained, and possibly fractured.

Not until he tried to look around for the car did he realise his vision was being obscured by a trail of blood pouring down his forehead. He swiped furiously at his eyes, and arched his back to look up. He could see the car. He’d fallen further than he intended - probably eight yards - but the sway of the tree branches must have cushioned the blow. With the amount of broken branches protruding from the tree, there was a serious risk of impalement - a sprained ankle and a gash to the forehead was getting off lightly.

Not only was the car within a short reach from here, but he could see the ground. He suspected it wasn’t anywhere near the bottom of the valley, but about six yards below the ground started to come to a gentle slope. It was at an incline gradual enough that you could probably walk down it without losing your footing.

He could now tell that the car was suspended not only by a small tree but by the hill itself. The car was tilted diagonally on its side - the front of the car was smashed against a small ledge on the front of the passenger’s side. His heart clenched in his chest as he checked for any sign that a person had been sitting there. He saw nothing, and hoped beyond hope that the only person in the car was the driver. He was unable to gauge their condition because the driver’s side was obscured by the foliage of the tree.

Using his beaten-up hands, Mulder tried to hoist himself up the tree, grimacing in pain as he attempted to free his leg. Unsuccessful the first time, he tried again, violently ripping it out from its wooden snare. He disregarded the pain and forced his foot to do as he willed it. He had to get to the driver, and the constant cracking of the branches around him had him convinced this tree could give way at any moment.

Moving as quickly as his aching limbs would allow, he tugged and pulled his body upwards towards the car. The ledge was so close, and if he could get to it he would then be able to reach the driver’s door. Hauling himself across to the small platform, he clenched his jaw and tried not to pay mind to the shooting pain as he put his full weight onto his foot. He stumbled up against the cliff face for a moment, trying to steady his balance. He couldn’t walk without extreme pain, but nothing would stop him from getting to the driver, who was now a mere two yards away.

Mulder hobbled towards the car, afraid but unhesitant, he pulled back the brush, hoping that the sight before him would not be of a dead body lying in a pool of blood. The tree had broken the window, but not shattered it. Through the debris of leaves and the cracks of the passenger side window he finally came to see her. It was a woman, but he could not tell if she was alive or dead. The airbag had deployed, and she was slumped down towards the passenger side and facing away from him.

He grabbed onto the handle of the door and attempted to open it. It was either locked or jammed. The tree beneath him let out a threatening crack and alarm bells went off for Mulder. If he couldn’t get the door open or wake her, she would likely soon plummet to her death. He may too, but that was of little consequence.

“Hey!” Mulder bellowed, banging frantically on the window. He got no response. “Hey! You have to wake up!” He yelled, tugging desperately at the car door, almost begging for it to give way.

“Mam! Please, you’ve got to get out of the vehicle!”

Another crack of the branch nearest to him, and he was done. He balled up his already scraped and torn fist, and with one heavy swing he punched right through the glass. Immediately he retracted his hand and punched again, removing enough of the glass that he could reach through and attempt to open the door from the inside. His bloodied hand slid down the interior of the car door, feeling around for the handle. He felt his hand slide against the cool metal and tugged it awkwardly down. He heard the locking mechanism give, and with his other hand grabbed onto the window frame and tried to lift the door upwards and open.

He felt the remainder of the glass that was still held in the window frame slice through his hand, but the door opened and he could now reach her.

“Mam?” He tried again, grabbing onto her shoulder and giving it a slight shake. The fact that punching out the window beside her wasn’t enough to rouse her worried him greatly. He brushed a few fragments of glass away from her shirt and the air bag. He still couldn’t see her face, only a swash of ginger hair. He couldn’t see any visible injuries, but the fact that she was still unconscious suggested she had some kind of head trauma. He knew airbags were capable of causing concussions and skull fractures, even death in some cases.

He reached out to take her wrist, unsure if he could trust his shaking and bludgeoned hands to be able to recognise a pulse. It took him a moment to feel it - the steady rhythm of her blood pumping reassuringly against his fingertips.

He held onto her a little longer than necessary, comforted by the confirmation that she was alive. But if she wasn’t going to wake up he would have to remove her on his own, and hope he could balance her and himself on this ledge with a possibly broken foot and hope that when the car tumbled down into the gully below it didn’t take the entire ledge with it.

Mulder reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out his father’s pocket knife. He’d had few opportunities to use it, other than for opening bottles of beer and wine. But he still carried it around with him for sentimental reasons. It reminded him of a time when he felt he’d had a family, and a father who was proud of him.

He pulled out the paring knife attachment and carefully sliced through the airbag. It deflated rapidly, uncovering the woman’s upper body. Mulder pushed it aside, and as he scanned her abdomen for injuries, his heart plummeted into his stomach. Her belly was curved and round, and judging by the size she was heavily pregnant. A fresh wave of remorse, coupled with nausea flowed through him. Could an unborn baby survive an impact like this? He’d use this pocket knife to slice his own wrists right now, if it could just mean that this woman and her baby could be safe and unharmed.

Pushing all of his disastrous thoughts aside, he unclipped her seatbelt, grabbing onto her upper body so she didn’t slide down into the passenger’s seat.

It was at this moment that he saw the first sign of her regaining consciousness. He felt a resistance in her shoulders, as if she was trying to pull away.

“Mam?” Mulder tried again. “Are you okay?” He had a firm but awkward grasp on her. The angle of the car and weight of her body made it hard to maneuver.

As he continued his attempts to remove her from the vehicle, he noticed her eyes momentarily flutter open. It could be a stroke of luck if she were to wake up now. He had no idea how he would be able to get her down to the ground without her help. Though the pathway down looked much easier from here than it had from the top. There were so many ledges and trees which looked capable of supporting their weight. It wouldn’t be easy, but if she could move, he felt confident that he could assist her all the way down.

Pain shot through his leg as he slowly hoisted her out of the passenger side door. Though it was difficult, he was very careful not to put any pressure on her midsection. He laid her down on the rocky ledge, gently supporting her head with hand.

Mulder looked over her body, trying to determine if she had any injuries. There were no visible marks on her. No blood or scratches. No bumps or bruising that he could see. She was wearing loose fitting clothing - most likely maternity wear - blue jeans and a sleeveless white blouse that flowed over her rounded belly. She looked to be in her late twenties or early thirties. Long ginger hair that curled softly at the ends.

“Mam, can you hear me?” Mulder asked, leaning in closer to her. There was little he could do but wait for her wake up. In the meantime he plotted the best way in which they might climb down. He kept his hand on her the whole time, afraid she may slip and fall somehow if she were to awaken suddenly.

It took a few more minutes for her to stir again. He could see her eyes dancing back and forth behind closed lids. Then a minute later they opened again. Her head tilted to the side, and she groaned.

“Mam? Are you okay?” Mulder asked, hovering above her.

“What happened?” She croaked back at him, still dazed and half-awake.

“You’ve been in an accident. Your car fell.” He explained.

“What?” She asked, as if she couldn’t quite understand what he was saying.

“You’re going to be alright. I think you’ve just hit your head.” Said Mulder, gently. “Do you think you can sit up?”

Her blue eyes opened and settled on him for a moment, as if she was trying to figure out if she knew him.

“My baby!” She cried out suddenly. A look of panic etched in her features as her hands flew to her abdomen. She shot up into a sitting position, the grimace on her face letting Mulder know it caused her some amount of discomfort.

“Take it easy, you very likely have a concussion.” Said Mulder, putting his hand on her shoulder.

“Oh my god.” She said as she finally took stock of her surroundings.

“Yeah, we’re in a bit of a tight spot here.”

She looked all around her, at the car, the sky and the ground below them, then at Mulder.

“The main thing I’m concerned about is the car. It’s being held in a very precarious position and I’m almost certain this tree is going to give way. When that happens and the full weight of the car hits this ledge, it could take us down with it.”

“So, we need to move.” She stated calmly. Much more calmly than Mulder would have expected, given the circumstances.

“Yes. If you look down here,” Mulder said, standing up shakily and gesturing to his right-hand side, “I think this way gives us the best chance of making it down without incident. The trees will give us leverage. I can help you.”

The woman glared up at him with a look of resentment, and Mulder could tell she wanted to say something, but was holding back. She didn’t need to say it however, because he knew exactly what she was thinking.

He wanted to apologise and convey just how remorseful he was for putting her in this situation, but that would be both selfish of him and surely meaningless to her. His words were worthless. He would make this right by doing everything he could to get her to safety.

“Can you stand?” He asked, limping closer to her and offering his hand in assistance.

The woman stared at his extended hand for a moment, before disregarding it and pulling herself to her feet using the cliff side to brace herself.

“I’ll go first, that way you will know if it will be safe for you to follow.” Mulder said. The woman nodded, looking apprehensive and holding her hand protectively against her belly. He glanced towards the mound, wondering if there was any way she could know whether the baby was injured or not. He supposed it wasn’t something that could be known for certain without radiographic equipment. But perhaps she knew, instinctively.

“You and your baby are going to be fine.” He said, softly, as he began to remove his jacket. “Here. Put this on.”

“I don’t need your jacket.” She insisted.

“I climbed up this tree, believe me, you do. It’ll protect your skin and cushion your belly. But we’ll do our best to avoid you having to slide on your front.”

“If it will fit around me.” She said, taking the jacket from him and sliding it on. She tried to fasten it but struggled with the zipper, getting it caught in the loose fabric of her blouse as she tried to maneuver around her large waist.

“Here, let me.” Mulder offered, looking first for a gesture of approval before he touched her. She looked at him for a moment, contemplating him. She nodded, before releasing her hands from the jacket and surrendering the task to him. “I get this stupid thing caught all the time.” He gave a slight smile, trying to lighten the incredibly dark situation they were in.

He knew how terrible the jacket must smell to her. He had lived in it for weeks, without cleaning it and rarely cleaning himself. He’d even slept in the thing. He turned away, almost ashamed at having made eye contact with her.

***

They had made it about half way down in silence, aside from a few aggrieved grunts and gasps. He figured out the path and she followed his movements. They were only a few yards from the point where the ground began to slope outwards.

Mulder had reached a difficult spot; with nothing reliable to brace himself down from the narrow protrude of jagged rock. He was pretty sure that he could lower himself down by lying down on his belly and sliding down to ground below, but it would be difficult for the woman to follow. If he could get an even balance he could perhaps brace her weight and help her down.

He tried not to cry out in agony as he struggled to find his footing. He was fairly certain that his foot was broken at this point. His muscles burned and his fingertips bled as he tried to brace his weight from the rough surface. Even so, his main concern was that the woman would have to follow him, and how difficult and uncomfortable that would be for her.

“Okay, now you.” Mulder called up to her. She had followed him without question, but now he could see doubt and uncertainty in her face.

“I don’t think I can.” She called back.

“You can do it, I’ll help you.”

“I’m much shorter and I don’t have the upper body strength that you do. I’ll lose my grip. Not to mention the pressure it will put on my lower torso.”

“If you can slide your legs over the side, I can grab your legs and brace your weight. We can do this. It’s not much further… from down here we can pretty much slide down. This is the last tough spot.”

“It’s not really as though I have a choice now is it?” She said as she lowered herself onto the rocky protrude. “Oh god.” She whimpered as she wriggled herself along her side, trying to protect her belly.

“That’s it. Just a little further.” Mulder said, reaching up to grab her ankles. “Use me to take the weight off your stomach.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I’ve got you. I won’t let you fall. I know it’s a lot to ask, given the circumstances, but you have to trust me.” He insisted - doing his best to reassure her.

“You’re right, that is a lot to ask.”

Irrespective of her words, she pushed herself over the edge, knowing if he didn’t catch her weight she may very well fall to her death. For a moment she was terrified, certain she was going to fall. Then she felt his arms wrap around her legs and the pressure in her arms lessen.

“Grab onto my shoulders.” He grunted, taking her full weight onto himself. She was very petite and even while pregnant probably only weighed 130lbs, it wouldn’t have been such a difficult task under normal circumstances, but the pressure he was putting on his foot was agony. He was sure he could feel splintered bone, stabbing into flesh. It was like being cut with a hot knife and it took all his will not give it the attention it was demanding. “I’ve got you.” He said, lowering her onto the ground beside him.

Once he was sure she had found her footing he released her, leaning into the face of the hill and lifting his foot to quell the tortured limb. He panted and winced, hiding his face away from her so she wouldn’t recognise how weak he was.

“Are you alright?” She asked. Mulder could have sworn there was true concern in her voice, but didn’t see how that was possible.

“Yeah.” He said, turning to her with a pained smile. “It’s like being a kid again.” He chuckled.

She smiled… She actually smiled at him.

***

Five minutes later and they had reached what could almost be described as level ground. As level as any forest floor could be, with its mounds of shrubs, ferns and greenery. Mulder leaned into his female companion, who refused to accept his decline for help. His ego would have won out if he wasn’t beginning to doubt his ability to move even a step further.

Mulder was covered in dirt and blood. His arms bleeding from several places though his long sleeved shirt. He hurt all over. Taking one last limp, he fell onto a fallen log that was covered in dry moss. He panted and gave an involuntary grunt. The woman meanwhile was unzipping the leather jacket and peeling it from her body. She was drenched in sweat. She looked exhausted but otherwise okay, with only a few grazes to her hands. She spread the jacket on the ground and lowered herself on top of the sherpa lining, using a the trunk of a tree to lean her back against.

“Are you okay?” Mulder asked.

“You’re asking me that?” She said, disbelievingly. Mulder looked away, unsure of what she meant. “If you could see yourself...”

She glanced him over. He looked wild and beaten. His face and whiskers were covered in blood. His shirt and jeans were ripped and dirty, with patches of dark red seeping through the fabric in numerous places. His hands were caked with dirt and dry blood. If it weren’t for his collared business shirt, he would look like a man who had never known civilisation.

“Your baby…” Mulder ventured, looking towards her belly.

“I don’t know,” She answered, placing her hand on top of her rounded stomach, “My primary concern is placental abruption. That’s when the placenta prematurely separates from the uterus, either partially or entirely, essentially starving the baby of oxygen. Such cases almost always require an emergency c-section if the foetus is to be saved. Without the appropriate medical imaging equipment there’s no way to be certain.”

Though she spoke plain and clinical, Mulder could tell she was holding back tears.

“I’m so sorry.” Mulder uttered, the shame evident in his voice.

“You’re sorry?! What the hell were you doing up there?!” She wanted to scream at him and call him all sorts of names, but she knew that wouldn’t help her or her unborn baby’s situation. Based on his appearance she felt sure this man had to be under the influence of something. She could think of few viable reasons for a person to fall asleep behind the wheel in the middle of the day, or lose control of a vehicle in that particular stretch of road.

The man just shook his head regretfully, somehow looking even more broken than he had a moment ago.

“You’ve taken some variety of narcotics, haven’t you?” She demanded.

He didn’t reply, but his pained expression was enough of an explanation for her.

The uncomfortable silence was broken by a sudden cracking sound from above. They both shot around to look back at the direction they had come. They reacted just quickly enough to see the car plummet front first into the ground, a broken stump smashing through the windshield and demolishing the driver’s seat. The car then flipped onto its back.

They both sat there in stunned silence, knowing that if she had still been behind the wheel of that vehicle she would most certainly be dead now.

There were a few more minutes of silence before anyone spoke again.

“It reminds me of Jurassic Park.” The woman muttered.

“Excuse me?” Mulder asked, confused.

“Jurassic Park. When the car is stuck in the tree, and the boy and the man have to climb down the labyrinth of branches to avoid being crushed by it. It looked just like that.” She said absently.

“Haven’t seen it.” Mulder said, slightly bewildered by the woman’s light-hearted conversation.

“I thought everybody had.”

“I would like to know if Spielberg could exceed the excellence of Close Encounters.”

“Aliens?” She raised her eyebrows sceptically.

“Yeah.” He answered.

He could have launched into an incredibly long dialogue about how that movie had affected him. It had been released four years after his sister’s disappearance, and he found the hype around the film both fascinating and infuriating. But if there was one thing he was sure of, it was that the last thing this woman needed to hear was of his unhinged ramblings. He was amazed she was speaking to him at all.

“Do you have a name?” She asked.

“Fox Mulder. FBI.” He said, flatly.

“You’re a federal agent?” She asked, as if she couldn’t quite believe he was telling the truth.

He wasn’t surprised by her incredulity. Mulder looked over in the distance, towards the demolished car.

“Probably not for much longer.” He gave a defeated half-smile. “My badge is in that jacket, if you want to see it.”

“I believe you.” She said.

It was the first chance the woman had to consider, that this man was likely going to be put behind bars if they made it out of here.

“And you?” Mulder asked, nodding his head towards her.

“Dana Scully, pediatric oncologist.”

Mulder chuckled to himself and shook his head, staring down at his bloodied hands.

“What is it?” She asked, wondering what he could possibly find amusing.

“I pretty much couldn’t have fucked up worse, could I?” He asked, though it was more of a statement.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you’re a young, beautiful woman who is carrying a child. You’re smart and strong - I can see that. Now you tell me that you save the lives of children with cancer. In my line of work I’ve encountered plenty of people. Plenty of people who, if they were to fall off the face of the earth, the earth would rejoice. Or it should do, because the world is a much darker place with them in it.”

Scully began to suspect that maybe he had intended to drive himself off a cliff, and she was the unintentional casualty.

“Where’s your car?” Scully asked.

“Up there.” Mulder gestured his head towards the road above.

“You didn’t crash?” She furrowed her brow, confused.

“No.” He replied, absently.

“Then how did you obtain such severe injuries?” Scully asked, looking him over. She had serious suspicions that he had broken his right foot, given the way he was walking. There was a deep laceration above his right eye that could have caused blindness had it been an inch to the right. It was still a possibility if it were to get infected.

“I don’t typically carry climbing equipment on my person.” He jested.

“You fell?” She asked, almost sounding suspicious.

“I jumped,” Mulder corrected, “It was the only way to reach you.”

“But you couldn’t have known if I was alive or dead.” Scully stated. “That was quite a risk to take for a stranger.”

“I couldn’t take the chance of fetching emergency services… I could see the car was going to fall.”

“You risked your life to help me.” She said, gently.

“Only after putting it in danger.” Mulder turned away, barely able to tolerate the soft notes of gratitude in her voice.

“Thank you.” She said, leaning her head back against the tree.

“Don’t thank me, Dana.” He answered, dejectedly.

***

“I wonder if I can hike out of here. Bring back help for you. ” Mulder stood up. He tried to hide how much pain it caused, but it was involuntarily expressed on his face.

“You can barely walk. It would be incredibly foolish to aggravate your injury further.” Scully lectured him from the ground. “If your foot is broken you may cause blood vessel or permanent nerve damage.”

Mulder was taken aback by how forceful she was. One would think from her small stature and delicate condition that she would be meek and vulnerable. This did not appear to be so.

“You should sit back down.” She insisted.

“I could start a fire, somehow.”  The words hung on his tongue for a few moments before they came out of his mouth. He hated fire. He was terrified of it. Thoughts of lighting a fire had Mulder envisioning himself being engulfed by flames. “There’s plenty of dry leaf litter in the area. It should create a good amount of smoke that any passersby may see.”

“That sounds like a wildfire waiting to happen. How would we control it? We have no fire pit. Also open air burning is very much prohibited during the day, at this time of the year, and for good reason.”

“All the more reason someone should pay attention to it. I could dig a fire pit. I will take full responsibility for it after the rescue crew arrives.”

“You shouldn’t be moving. Neither of us should.” Scully argued. “In addition to the injuries we’ve already sustained, at current temperatures, we are both at risk of extreme dehydration if we are stranded here overnight.”

“All the more reason to try to get you out of here as quickly as possible.” He answered, not willing to rest until he had done everything in his power to help her.

“Look…” Scully reasoned. “Your car is still up there. How did you leave it?”

“Blocking oncoming traffic. Keys in the ignition. Door open, I think.” Mulder answered, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.  

“So it’s very likely that someone will see it and report it to the park ranger or the authorities. They may very well have already done so.”

“I’ll be frank with you, Dana… I’m not very adept at sitting around and hoping for the best.”

“I suspected. But recovering from our injuries and finding a source of water should be our primary concern.”

“At this time of the year I highly doubt we will find anything but a dry creek bed.”

“There are bottles of water in the trunk of my car, as well as my medical bag. Some supplies. Even a half-full fuel can and matches, if you insist on lighting a fire. There is the issue of opening it however.”

“Unfortunately I took the coat hanger out of my jacket this morning.” Quipped Mulder.

“By the looks of things, there is going to be no way to access it through the backseat. I could try picking the lock, but I don’t have any bobby pins.”

“They teach you that in medical school?”

“My father is a Navy man. He didn’t want his girls growing up without survival skills. He taught me everything he taught my brothers.”

“Smart man. I suspect such parental philosophies are about to come in handy.” Said Mulder as he reached into his back pocket. “Will this work?” Mulder asked as he held up his father’s pocket knife.

“It’s worth trying.” Scully answered, looking hopeful.

She moved to attempt to stand.

“Hey.” Mulder said, jumping immediately to his feet to help her. “Let me help you.”

“You need to stay here. Your injuries are more serious than you are willing to admit.”

“You shouldn’t be moving around either, and I’m certain you know that. I’m no doctor, but I do know there is every possibility that have a serious head injury and perhaps worse. If you won’t let me do it, at least let me help you.” Pleaded Mulder, as he reached out and offered his hand.

“Do you know how to pick locks?” She asked as she took his hand and struggled to get onto her feet.

“I grew up watching The Magician, but that was one trick I could never master. I’m inclined to just kick and shoot at things until they open.”

“You may want to lay off the kicking for the time being.” She said, gesturing to his foot. “How do magicians pick locks?

Mulder shrugged his shoulders.

“Magic.”

She looked away from him with a slight smirk.

Mulder hobbled along beside her as they headed towards the car. He felt pathetic walking with such a strong limp, feeling like he was slowing her down. She was grateful for the gentle pace however; her head was throbbing and she felt nauseas. She was certain she had a concussion, though she had no way of telling how serious.

Her medical bag contained both pain relievers and anti-nausea medication, which were secondary on her priority list after water. If she began vomiting she could reach dangerous levels of dehydration very quickly.

Scully examined the attachments on the pocket knife. The sewing awl was the narrowest, and seemed like the best option. She had no idea if would work or not. She turned it over in her hand and saw the word ‘William’ engraved into the other side. She thought about questioning it, but remained silent.

It caught her off guard how unsettling it was to see the extent of the damage up close. Every window was shattered and missing. The front of the car was crumpled up like a piece of paper and the roof had caved in.

She was confronted by the reality of human mortality on a daily basis - looking into the eyes of terminally ill children and seeing their young lives fade away. It would be an insult to their loss to forget how precious, fragile and remarkably temporary life was. But to know for certain that she would be gone now if not for the selfless intervention of another, gave her a renewed respect for her own existence.

She knelt down on her knees and inserted the knife attachment into the lock. She tried to ignore the discomfort of her shins pressed against the hard ground. Mulder meanwhile made certain there was no way to access the trunk from the back seat.

“I’m afraid that this isn’t going to work.” Said Scully, finally giving up. She had tried every attachment on the knife, including the corkscrew. “Maybe it’s time you try kicking it.” She joked.

“I may not be able to kick, but I can hit.” Mulder said, limping towards a broken branch that the car had brought down with it. “You may want to stand back.”

Mulder swung the heavy piece of wood with as much force as he could. The twisting motion sent waves of pain shooting through his nerves, but he ignored all his senses telling him to stop. He beat the metal cage over and over again, desperate to get Scully the water she and her baby needed.

“Hey!” Scully interrupted, afraid he was going to worsen his injuries. Mulder stopped to look at her. “Maybe you should take a break?”

Mulder threw down the piece of wood. He hit, pulled and punched at the car with his fists, sweating from the heat and frustration.

“Maybe you should try that magic trick?” Said Scully, realising nothing she could say would convince this man to admit defeat. There was a relentlessness about him that seemed truly unique.

“I don’t know the magic words.” Mulder said, limping backwards and lowering himself onto the ground to rest. Scully was surprised that he allowed himself even that.

“Hocus pocus?” Scully said, leaning back against a nearby tree.

“Abracadabra!” Mulder yelled.

It was precisely at this moment that the lid of the upside down trunk swung open, and out toppled bottles of water, clothes, blankets and Scully’s medical bag. Mulder sat up and stared.

“It was ‘hocus pocus’.” Scully said, reaching down to grab a bottle of water.

Mulder smiled and shook his head.

***

Mulder placed down the last of the contents of Scully’s trunk. There was quite an array of supplies and he found himself wondering what she had planned to use them for. Was she staying at the summit lodge or was she perhaps camping in the park grounds? There was a case of a dozen bottles of water, a sleeping bag, two blankets, a large torch, half a can of fuel, a lantern, her medical bag and a duffle bag and backpack of which he wasn’t sure of the contents.

Scully was spreading out what appeared to be a large picnic blanket. It had a tartan print and a waterproof backing. She then picked up two bottles of water and placed them on top.

“Sit down here.” Said Scully, pointing to the blanket at her feet.

“What for?” Asked Mulder, furrowing his brow.

“So I can treat you injuries. As best I can with what we have on hand anyway.”

“I’m fine.” He tried to deflect her.

“Do you have a medical degree?” Scully was glad she had that to back up her position. This man was the definition of stubborn. “Sit.”

Mulder moved away from the fallen log and lowered himself awkwardly on the ground, grimacing as he did. He’d have argued some more, but he’d probably agree to cut out his own heart and give it to her, if it would make her happy. His co-operation was the least he could offer her.

Scully sat down beside his legs, her medical bag in hand.

“We’re going to have to remove your boot now, so I can examine the damage.” She announced as she began untying his laces.

“Okay.” Mulder really wasn’t looking forward to this. He was looking forward to it even less as she tugged on the boot to free his foot, causing a fresh wave of pain. His socks were a light grey at one point, but now they were a dark crimson, completely soaked through with blood. Mulder had suspected that already.

Scully took a pair of sterile gloves from one of the pouches and snapped them on. Mulder looked away as she peeled away the sock. He didn’t want his eyes to trick him into believing it was worse than it was. He heard her give a sharp inhale, and his eyes snapped to her face.

“You have an open fracture here. Appears to be the fifth metatarsal, fractured at the proximal end. I suspect there might also be at least one other closed fracture, but with this amount of swelling it’s hard to be certain.” She said, prodding at the top of his foot. Mulder flinched involuntarily. “You must have an incredibly high tolerance for pain.”

Mulder dared to look down for the moment and saw bone protruding through skin. His foot had turned a weird shade of yellow and purple.

“Are you experiencing any numbness?” She asked, reaching into her medical bag.

“Definitely not.” Mulder answered, the discomfort evident on his face.

“Good. Let me know if that changes. Numbness would indicate a disruption to your circulation.”

“Guess I won’t be making the track team this year.” Mulder joked.

Scully pulled out a bottle of saline solution, antiseptic, sterile pad and a rolled up gauze bandage. Then reached into another pocket of the bag and rifled through a few packages of medications before retrieving two.

“Open fractures carry a significant and immediate risk of infection. Bacteria, dirt and clothing fibers can enter the wound and cause osteomyelitis - that’s an infection of the bone. Untreated that carries with it the risk of sepsis, amputation and even death. Antibiotics are a vital preventative measure. Typically treatment would require an x-ray or computerized tomography to establish the number of fractures and level of displacement. That would be followed with correction of the bone position and then a cast placed on for approximately six to eight weeks. The best we can do here is irrigate the wound and place on a sterile compression bandage. Keep it immobilised as best we can. I’m going to give you an antibiotic to prevent infection, both for your foot and numerous lacerations to the rest of your body.”

Mulder nodded as Scully pulled two pills out of a blister pack.

“What have you taken today?” She asked, looking him directly in the eyes.

Mulder stared at her, ashamed but unable to turn away from her.

“I need to know before I give you any medication.” She explained.

“Heroin. Injected.” He said, flatly.

“How much?” She demanded.

“Enough that I shouldn’t be here.” Mulder looked away then.

“Was that the intent?” She asked, with much more softness in her voice now.  

“More of a vague inclination.” Mulder looked back at her, and stared directly into her eyes, as if he was trying to pour his sincerity into her. “But I never intended to hurt you, or anyone else.”

Mulder’s eyes looked pointedly towards her stomach, and she knew exactly what he meant by ‘anyone else’.

“I gathered that from your behaviour. You could have just kept driving.”

“No, I couldn’t.” Mulder said, earnestly.

“Exactly.” Scully gave him a slight smile. “Do you have any known allergies?”

“Only to country music.” He smiled.

“Any prior health conditions?”

“A few injuries on the job. Nothing chronic.”

“I assume you are aware of the dangers of intravenous drug abuse?” She asked.

“Collapsed veins, puncture marks. Skin infection, abscesses, cellulitis, necrotising fasciitis. Bacteria on the cardiac valves, endocarditis, and other cardiovascular infections. Swelling of the feet, ankles, and legs secondary to poor peripheral blood flow.”

He may have been a drug user, but ignorant he was not.

“Impressive.”

“I’ve never shared a needle in my life. In the Bureau we are required to complete a routine physical regularly for work. My last bloodwork - which was 3 months ago - came back fine. I’m free of disease and healthier than I deserve to be.”

Mulder thought that was an understatement, considering he should be dead.

“The doctor didn’t suspect anything?” She asked quizzically.

“He’s known me for years. That relationship allows a certain latitude.” He answered, looking away.

“I see.” She said, handing him the small red and white capsules. “Take these.”

“What are they?” Mulder asked.

“Antibiotics.” She answered, handing him a bottle of water to wash them down with.

“We should keep the water for you.” Mulder argued, raising his hand to push the bottle away.

“There’s enough for both of us. Please don’t be difficult.”

Scully pushed the bottle of water back towards him.

“Yes, doctor.” Mulder smiled, swallowing the pills and taking a swig of water with them.

Scully opened a small, white bottle and presented him with three small tablets.

“Pregabalin - to treat neuropathic pain.” She said, placing them in his hand. “I would have given you oxycodone, but I doubt they will have any effect. Heroin is three times stronger than morphine, and I suspect you’ve developed a resistance to opioids.”  

“I think you’re right. I don’t think I would be alive right now if I hadn’t.”

Scully nodded in recognition of his confession.

“I’m going to wrap this now, and it is going to hurt. Though the degree of pain will likely pale in comparison to what you have already been through.”

She doused the open wound with saline to wash away any debris that may have stuck to the bloodied flesh and bone. Then she applied and antiseptic spray, covered it with the pad and wrapped his whole foot and ankle.

“Too bad we don’t have any frozen peas.” Quipped Mulder.

She smiled at him and for a moment he forgot how much pain he was in. He glanced down at her hand, which was busy fastening the bandage to his leg, and noted that she wasn’t wearing a wedding band, as if that was significant somehow.

Scully wriggled closer until she was sitting by his side, facing him.

“I’m going to need you to remove your shirt.” Said Scully. It was more of an order than a request.

“Why?” Mulder asked, though he knew perfectly well the reason.

“So I can sterilise your cuts and lacerations. I don’t know if you’re aware, but you have a large patch of blood on the back of your shirt, near your left shoulder blade. And that’s not the only one I’m concerned about.”

Mulder looked away, not knowing how to refuse her request. Scully looked at him with sympathy, understanding his reluctance and what it was that he didn’t want her to see.

He nodded his head, to give his okay, but made no attempt to unbutton his shirt.

Scully slowly reached out towards his collar, giving him a chance to respond if he was going to push her away. He didn’t react at all, just kept staring in the opposite direction. She undid the top button, then the second. As she attempted to unfasten the third, she felt a painful contraction in her lower abdomen. It was strong and uncomfortable enough that she let out quiet whimper.

It was significant enough that Mulder had heard and turned his head to look at her. He could see pain on her face and he felt a wave of panic.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, placing his hand on her upper arm.

“It’s nothing. Just a contraction.” She said, steadying her breath.

“What?!” Cried Mulder, in alarm.

“I’m sure it’s nothing. They’ve been happening for weeks. Though they haven’t been this strong. It’s possibly due to dehydration. Oxytocin is a hormone that triggers uterine contractions. When dehydrated the hormone to blood volume ratio increases. The temporary rise triggers contractions, which subside again with rehydration.” She explained.

“Well here, drink.” Said Mulder, urgently. He handed her his bottle of water.

“I’ve already drank a full bottle. It just may take some time.” She forced the bottle back into his hand. “You on the other hand, you have hardly had a sip.”

“It’s not mine to drink.” He said, flatly.

“Well if the worst does happen, and I do go into labour, I’m going to need you alive. Think of yourself as an investment… if that helps you.”

Scully really didn’t believe that that was a serious possibility, knowing labour could take days and they were likely to be rescued within a few hours. But she could tell Mulder would only care for himself if he believed there would be consequences for her if he failed to do so.

He took a small drink from the bottle and Scully returned to the task of removing his blood-soaked shirt.

It had been a long time since he had been undressed by a beautiful woman, and Mulder pushed away thoughts he believed he had no right to be thinking. He sat the bottle down beside him and kept his eyes on the blanket, but he was acutely aware of the brush of her fingers against his chest.

She pulled the shirt away from his muscular shoulders, sliding it down his arms and off of his body.

Scully examined the skin of his arms and back. Compared to the rest of his body the yellow bruising around his injection site was insignificant, but her eyes were still drawn to that more than anything. She wanted to know why. Why a man who had such strength of character and will, who was bright and intelligent, with a successful career and a handsome face would take such a path.

Was he abusing drugs, or did he have a substance use disorder? She knew there were many causes for addiction, and she’d seen the effects regularly during her residency. Heroin, along with alcohol, among those in the middle to upper-class demographic tended to abuse drugs as a form of self-medicating, rather than for recreational use.

“I’m not going to have enough bandages for all of these. I’ll clean them up and cover the worst of them. This large one on your back is going to need stitches, as well as the one above your eye, and possibly your hand.”

“That sounds like fun.”

Scully took his right hand in her own and brought it closer to her. It was covered in dry blood.

“Your right hand is considerably more injured than your left. Can you move it for me?”

Mulder flexed his hand. There was pain but nothing in comparison to his foot.

“The cut on the back of your hand is quite deep, there may be foreign bodies trapped within, but it’s already closed up quite a bit. I don’t think it would be a good idea to open it back up again to irrigate it, given our limited supplies. Do you know how it happened?”

“Punching the window.” He answered.

“What window?” Scully asked.

“Your car window. The door was locked and you were unconscious, it was the only way I could think of to access the vehicle.”

“So you punched through the window screen?”

“Uh huh.” He answered, as though it was an everyday occurrence.

“I’m amazed that your hand isn’t broken, between that and the incident with the trunk. There don’t appear to be fractures, though I can’t rule it out without an x-ray. ”

Scully tried not to be impressed, but she surely was. That a person would go to such lengths to save a stranger, at so much cost to themselves. It denoted either a remarkable care for others or total abandonment of any care for oneself. In Mulder’s case she suspected it was a combination of both.

Her interest in this man, his behaviour, motivations, thoughts and feelings were piqued.

“How long ago did you first start using?” Scully asked, pulling some gauze pads out of her bag and applying saline to one of them.

Mulder wished she wouldn’t have asked. He didn’t want to talk about himself, and the mess that was his life. But he would be in prison or dead soon, so he couldn’t see any reason it would matter. He doubted she could possibly think any less of him, after what he’d done.

“About seven or eight months ago.” Mulder answered, staring down at his beaten hands.

“What was it that lead to that first time?” Scully began stroking the soft pad against one of the cuts on his arm, cleaning away the dried blood.

“I had a bad day.” Mulder chuckled.

“We all have those. There must have been something significant for you to risk your career.”

“Well it was more like a bad decade. Or two.” Mulder turned to her and gave her a grave smile.

She could see the pain in his eyes.

“Tell me about it.” The warmth in her voice sounded so genuine, it was remarkably compelling. Mulder felt he could lay his entire miserable life out in front of her, and she’d probably try to wash the pain away with saline and gentle hands.

“I guess I just, slowly lost my faith.” He said, earnestly.

“Faith in what?” She asked, moving the gauze higher up his arm.

“Faith that my sister is alive. Faith to continue looking. Faith in myself. Faith that any of it had any meaning at all.” There was a hollowness in his voice as he spoke.

“Your sister?” Scully asked, pausing what she was doing to look at him. She’d wondered what the crux was for leading him down this path, and that he revealed it to her - a relative stranger - almost instantaneously, was fascinating. Rarely did she meet someone so self-aware and open.

She could never be so forthright with her own emotional scars, even with her family. She was too afraid to let people see her foibles and vulnerabilities. It would require a level of trust that she had yet to attain with anyone.

“She disappeared when she was eight years old. My resolution to find out what happened to her that night became the driving force of my life. It has consumed me.” Mulder turned to look for her response. “As a physician I’m going to assume you are familiar with the proposed five stages of grief?”

“Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance.” Scully was more than aware of what grief looked like. She experienced it vicariously through the parents of the children that she treated. Some even moved through these stages while their children were still alive - almost reaching a stage of acceptance before their terminally-ill child finally slipped away. It was an act of self-preservation, to let go and make peace with their loss. For living indefinitely with grief, like the pain of losing a child, was not truly living.

“Except what happens when there is no death? When there is no body and no evidence that a life has been extinguished? They’re just missing, and all you are left with is a thousand different scenarios, none of which hold any more weight than the other. When someone is abducted, you’re not allowed to move through those stages. You get to remain in stage one in perpetuity. There’s no ending. That’s all I’ve wanted… all I’ve strived for. I just wanted an ending, whether it be fantastic or tragic. I wanted it to be over, to be free to move through those stages, to move on with my life. I wanted closure. But I’ve come to accept that that will never happen. I will never find an answer, and I will never be free. ”

Scully could sense the grief he held inside. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have to live with that loss for so long, and from such a young age.

“I’m sorry.” She placed her hand on his back, caressing a graze-free patch of skin. “How old were you?”

“I was twelve.”

“Did you receive therapy?” She asked.

“Not the kind you are probably referring to.” Mulder was thinking of his numerous hypnotic regression sessions to revisit the night of his sister’s abduction. “I graduated from university with a Bachelor of Science degree in psychology. When I graduated from the academy I began working in the Behavioural Science Unit as a psychological profiler. I’m considered an expert in my field. I’ve never needed anyone else to be able to explain to me why I am the way that I am, or why I do the things that I do. But knowing doesn’t change my need for an answer. As long as I’m alive, I am compelled to look for her. She was in my care that night, and I let her down. I failed to protect her. I have no right to let her go… to forget about her. Not as long as there is any possibility that she’s still out there, and that she still needs me. But I can’t go on any longer.”

Scully thought that this likely explained his fierce need to save and protect others. He was stuck in the role of big brother. He would succeed with others, where he failed with his sister. This passionate disregard for himself made complete sense to her now. She wouldn’t tolerate any of that though. All of her anger towards him had all but vanished. She was certain he was internally berating himself for his mistake. Her own anger would serve no purpose for either of them, or her baby.

“Are you able to remove yourself from that experience enough to recognise that you were just a child? That putting the responsibility of a tragedy onto a child is wrong, even if that child was yourself?”

“I’ve tried. I can’t. I can’t absolve myself from the responsibility, no matter how objectively I look at the experience. Perhaps I could, if someone else was still looking for her, but they’re not. They all quit, Dana. Within days… weeks… months. I’m the only one. Shortly after her disappearance, I could tell my parents no longer wanted to hear her name. So I stopped saying it. All of her belongings were stored away in the basement - it was as if she had never existed. We were no longer a family. The world forgot about her, but I couldn’t. I can’t.”

Scully’s heart went out to him. She wondered how many children would show such fierce loyalty to their siblings. Would her brothers and sister have spent their life looking for her, if the same fate had befallen her? Or would she have been forgotten? She honestly didn’t know.

She returned to treating his injuries. Somehow she felt his pain every time he flinched, much more so than she had before. She was extra gentle where she could be and soothed or apologised with every stitch she had to make. She carefully wrapped his hands and washed the blood away from him.

As she cleaned the blood away from his face, he tried not to look at her. He was astonished by this woman’s generosity and her ability to forgive. She was extraordinarily caring and gentle. Even when she injected the lidocaine into his skin, she prepared and reassured him. It was truly as if she didn’t want to hurt him… didn’t want to punish him, and he wondered why.

As she brushed the cloth against his whiskers, his eyes were inexplicably drawn to her. Her face was so close to his as she stroked the soft cloth down his jaw and chin. He simultaneously resented being given so much attention, but immensely enjoyed it. As he pulled away his eyes caught hers, and Mulder felt something for her that he quickly shut down. It was such a foreign sensation. Not arousal of the usual places, but of a place buried deep inside, lost and long forgotten.

“We’re done.” She said, snapping the gloves off of her hands. “I suggest you do your best to stay off of your feet, though I suspect that’s a recommendation you aren’t going to follow.” She eyed him sceptically. “You should lie down and rest, at least for a while.”

“The fire…” Mulder began.

“I know. But there are still five or six hours until dark. We can afford a couple of hours respite, and by late afternoon the fire may not be necessary. I’m certain several people must have encountered your vehicle by now.”

Mulder nodded in agreement. He was happy to avoid fire if it made sense to do so.

“Lie down.” Scully reminded him.

“Yes, doc.” Mulder gave her a slight smile and laid down, resting his aching body. The tartan blanket felt unusually soft against the skin of his bare back.

He could hear her rifling through her medical bag, and turned his head to the side to see what she was doing. He watched as she removed medications from three separate packets, and proceeded to swallow them, guzzling some water down with the pills.

“What were those?” Mulder asked, lifting his head up slightly.

“Pain relievers, anti-inflammatory and anti-nausea medications.” She answered, replacing the cap back on the bottle of water.

“You’re feeling nauseas?”

“Yes. I almost certainly have a concussion.” Scully answered. “How long did I lose consciousness for?”

“I’d say about ten minutes.”

Scully nodded.

“Is that bad?” He asked, concern evident in his voice.

“Losing consciousness from a heavy impact to the skull is never good. But there is a correlation between the time it takes to regain consciousness and the severity of the injury to the brain. Ten minutes is better than twenty. An hour is better than a day.” Scully had closed her bag and was searching for something in the front pocket. She reached in and pulled out a pen and a small notebook. “I should be fine. My hearing and vision haven’t been affected. My thoughts feel clear. I feel alert. That being said, with a concussion, effects can sometimes take hours or days to manifest. If I start showing signs of confusion, if my speech is slurred and I lose consciousness again… then that would be bad.”

Scully smiled at him, trying to keep the situation light.

“Would you mind if I borrow your watch?” Scully asked, pointing to his left wrist.

“Sure.” Mulder began to sit up and reached his bandaged hands and fingers over to try to unfasten it.

“Don’t worry, just leave it on.” Scully said, crawling along the blanket, and lying down beside him. “I will just check it when I need to.”

Her long red hair brushed against his left shoulder as she made herself comfortable as she could.

“What do you need it for?”

“To track the times of my baby’s movements, and contractions if that happens again. If the frequency of movement decreases then that could be an indication that something is wrong.”

“How often is it supposed to move?” Mulder asked.

“At this point in pregnancy, it’s normal for movements to slow down to once or twice an hour. There is such little room for the foetus to move around in, and it’s harder to sense the movements. They tend to be most active when the mother is lying down or sleeping, and it’s easier to feel when completely still. Less than ten movements in a four hour period is cause for concern.”

“You’ve felt it move since the crash, haven’t you?” Mulder felt his stomach clench with worry.

“No. But I’ve been concentrating or moving about most of the time. The crash wasn’t forceful enough to prematurely rupture the membranes. I’m refusing to panic.” Scully reached down for his wrist and pulled it up towards her face. She released his wrist and wrote the time down of the paper pad with a felt tip pen.

Scully placed the paper by her side, ready for when she would need it. She then moved to lay down on her side and placed her left hand firmly on her belly. She closed her eyes and her right hand clasped unconsciously onto Mulder’s forearm. Maybe it was because she needed his watch, or maybe it was just because she needed something to hold on to.

They lay there in silence for some time. Scully closed her eyes, waiting patiently for her baby to let her know he or she was alright. Mulder stared up at the sky, watching the leaves of the trees sway above him. There were more clouds now then there had been this morning, but the sky was still blue. The sunlight danced through the branches and across his face. The sound of Scully’s breathing, the wind and the birds allowed him to drift away from his body and his pain. The only anchor stopping him from flying away was Scully’s fingers wrapped around him.

***

_The sky erupted in a blaze of bright, dazzling colours. Bursts of red and purple, and then green and blue. The man stared up - his heart full and happy. A little hand wrapped around his own, warm against his palm._

_He’d fallen asleep earlier, curling up against his father to keep warm. His little eyes had fought to stay awake for hours, desperate not to miss any of the excitement. But they were open now, wide with wonder and joy that only a child can feel. His ginger curls bounced as he jumped up and down in delight._

_The man reached down and picked up the small boy, lifting him onto his shoulders._

_“It’s the New Year!” The boy shouted._

_“It’s the new millennium!” Added the man._

_“You mean it’s the new Willenium.” Giggled the boy._

***

The bridge from sleep to consciousness was a short and painful one. Mulder fought it, wanting to stay in his happy and peaceful slumber. The sound of fireworks resonated in his ears, mixed with a child’s laughter. He wanted to stay there with the boy and the father. He didn’t want to return to the pain. But it was creeping up slowly, flowing through his nerve endings and forcing him to wake.

His eyes opened, just a little, too stung by the bright sunlight to be able to open all at once. His thought processes began to switch back on. The pain quickly reminded him of everything sleep allowed him to forget. He allowed his eyes to remain closed, taking in the sounds of his waking environment. There was something new… Something that hadn’t been there when he had fallen asleep. When he recognised the sound his eyes shot open and head jerked up in alarm.

“Dana?” He ventured, turning painfully on his side to face the woman beside him. She was crying. She tried to shield him from seeing her tears by turning her head towards the ground away from him. “What’s wrong?”

She didn’t answer, just continued to look away. Mulder could see her shoulders trembling with her uneven breaths.

“Is it the baby?” Mulder asked, his heart dropping.

“It’s been over an hour.” She muttered. “Over three hours since I last felt any movement.” Scully began sobbing. Her crying was soft and controlled, just like her.

Mulder had no idea how to respond. He had no idea what he could possibly say to console her, or himself.

“This is my fault.” She spoke so quietly that Mulder wasn’t sure he’d heard her right. “God is punishing me.”

“What are you talking about?” Mulder asked, completely confused how she could turn the blame for this situation onto herself.

“The baby’s father. When we were first together… he was married. It took me…” She paused to choke back a sob. “A very long time to figure out what kind of man he really was… an unforgivably long time.” She shook her head and covered her face with her hands. “I was so selfish, and foolish, and now my baby has to pay the price for my sins.”

“Don’t do this to yourself, Dana.” Mulder pleaded. “I’m the one who put you here, if you’re looking for an answer for why this has happened to you, it’s right here in front of you. Be angry with me.”

“No… I won’t.” Scully shook her head. “It was an accident. I forgive you.”

“Matthew 6:14 For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you.” Said Mulder, reaching out to place his hand on her belly. “To the Lord our God belong mercies and forgivenesses, though we have rebelled against him. Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.” Scully turned her face towards him with tears in her eyes. “I’m the first to admit, Dana, that I’m a man of little faith. But I do know the word of God, and I do know he offers recompense to the faithful… and you clearly have faith.”

Scully nodded, and gave a weak smile through her tears. She placed her hand on top of Mulder’s, which lay on her belly. She felt comforted and grateful.

“Woah!” Mulder yelped, jerking his hand away in surprise.

“Did you feel that?” Scully exclaimed, her voice flooded with excitement and joy as she sat up slightly.

“Did I feel that? Is that a baby in there or a ninja?” Mulder smiled. Mulder wanted to lighten the mood, but there were no words to describe the absolute relief that he felt. “Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?”

“I don’t. I wanted to be surprised.”

“Well you can be certain of one thing… he or she is strong.” Said Mulder. His hand was still a on her belly. He was aware that he should retract his hand from hers, now that she no longer needed reassurance, but she wasn’t the only one comforted by the contact. “You know, in Hungarian folklore it’s believed that spiders can predict the gender of an unborn baby.”

“How so?” Scully asked.

“The mother-to-be sticks her finger into the web of a spider, and if the spider repairs the hole it’s supposed to indicate that the woman is carrying a boy. If the hole remains then it’s believed to indicate a girl. Probably even less preferable than the Moroccan practice of dropping a louse on the abdomen of a pregnant woman. The gender prediction determined by which face the insect happens to land.”

Scully wondered how he knew about the subject. He sounded more like a sociologist than a federal employee.

“Who knew bugs carried so much wisdom? I think I’ll just wait another week.”

“That soon?”

“I’m 39 weeks tomorrow.” She informed him.

“Have you chosen any names?” He asked, wanting to keep the conversation going.

“I have a few in mind. But I feel as though I should wait until I see him or her. What if they were born and I realised that I had chosen the wrong name?”

“Well you can never be too cautious. Take it from a guy who has gone through the entirety of his life with the name ‘Fox’.” He smiled, giving her a slightly vexed look.

“Do you have any children?” Scully asked.

“Me?” Mulder chuckled. “No.” The question caught him by surprise. He was stunned by the idea that she could think that was possible… that he could be or have something so normal.

“What would you name them if you did?” She asked.

“Anything but ‘Fox’.”  Mulder grinned. “Honestly, I’ve entertained many ideas in my life, and naming my first-born is never one that crossed my mind. It’s not something I have ever thought I would be lucky enough to experience, so the notion is just a tad too fantastic for me to consider. I guess for me, it’s outside the realm of extreme possibilities. If you were to ask my colleagues they would tell you that that is saying a lot.”

Scully wondered what he meant. Both in regards to him never believing it possible he could have children, and in his implication that he was known for being open minded. She wanted to ask him about any significant others, but didn’t feel comfortable doing so given their close proximity. His face was so near to hers, that they could probably whisper a conversation to one another. His chest was bare, excusing the bandages, her own shirt had ridden up to her breasts and his hand was still on her - a fact of which she was now acutely aware.

She told herself that she was being foolish, that he wouldn’t feel attracted to her in her current condition, but in reality it wasn’t his attraction to her that was concerning her. Rather it was her own affection that was building towards him at such a rapid pace. It didn’t make sense. It didn’t make sense to feel so comfortable with him touching her, or to feel so connected to someone in the matter of a few hours. She put it down to trauma, head injury, and feeling vulnerable, because those all seemed like rational explanations.

Scully pulled her hand away from him, and he did the same. She sat up and pulled her shirt down. Mulder could tell there was something that made her uncomfortable. He’d seen it in her eyes before she moved away.

“What’s the time?” Scully asked, reaching for the pad and pen beside her.

“3.38 PM.” Mulder answered, checking his watch. Scully scribbled the time of the baby’s movement on the paper.

“I should get to work on that fire.” She said, placing the pad down and reaching for the bottle of water.

“I should do it. You shouldn’t be breathing in any smoke.”

“No.” She said, twisting her body around to look at him. “You shouldn’t be moving. The medications have started to take effect, and all I have is a slight headache. You move around on that foot, and you risk losing it. I still don’t know how you managed to stay mobile to the extent you did.”

Mulder just stared at her, frustrated by the fact that she was right. She could tell he still wanted to argue, regardless.

“Look.” She said. “I appreciate all you’ve done to help me, but I can handle myself just fine.”

“It’s not that I doubt you or your abilities. I just…”

“I understand.” She cut him off. “I will try to find a clear area, free from any possible kindling that could catch alight and spread. A surface of flat rock would be ideal. I will look around and see what I can find.”

Scully climbed to her feet, bent down and handed Mulder the bottle of water.

“Your task is to drink more of this, and try to rest some more. Sleep if you can.” She gave him a slight smile, and tried to ignore the part of her that enjoyed the sight of him lying there, in nothing but a pair of jeans. “Hopefully I won’t have to go far. I’ll look downwind first, so hopefully we can avoid the smoke blowing this direction. I will try to be back within an hour, but if I’m not, under no circumstances are you to come looking for me. I’m taking your watch with me so I can keep tracking the baby’s movements.”

Mulder nodded as she removed the watch from his wrist, not sure how he was supposed to argue with anything she said when everything she said was completely reasonable and just.

He watched her walk away, can of fuel in one hand, and her other hand held protectively against her belly. Her long red hair flowed behind her in the slight breeze. He wondered how a woman could simultaneously appear so beautiful and vulnerable, yet also have such an air of dominance about her.

***

“Fox?” Scully said, shaking his shoulders. “Fox?”

“Mulder.” He mumbled incoherently, waking from his slumber. “Call me Mulder.”

“Okay. Mulder.” Scully sat back down beside him. “Just thought you might like to be updated on our situation. Though I can’t say it’s particularly good news.”

“Huh?” Mulder groaned, still not realising where he was. The pain reminded him quickly, however. His eyes blinked a few times before they would remain open and as he stared up he noticed that the light in the sky had changed. “What happened? What time is it?”

“It’s ten past seven.” Scully answered. “It’ll be dark soon. Once night falls there is considerably less chance anyone is going to notice the smoke. It’s been burning for about three hours already. I don’t understand how our situation could have gone unnoticed this long. You’re sure you left your car where you said you did?”

“I’m certain.” Mulder answered. “That doesn’t necessarily mean that’s where it stayed though.”

“What do mean?” She asked.

“Well it’s possible that a person or persons came across it and just decided to take it.” Mulder explained.

“That never even crossed my mind as a possibility.” She admitted.

“Thoughts of theft generally don’t occur to good people with outstanding morality.”

“I don’t have outstanding morality. Some days I’m not even sure if I’m good.” She wasn’t sure why she’d said it. But thoughts about her life, her past mistakes and her current situation were all she had been thinking about the past few hours.

Being close to Mulder earlier had made her feel threatened.

She’d left so quickly to work on the fire, in order to distract and distance herself from her thoughts and feelings. That was how she coped. She set about accomplishing a set list of tasks she could focus on. Work was what had always saved her. When she was living in servitude of something or someone, she could forget about herself. She could forget about the pain, remorse, guilt, emptiness, loneliness and confusion. She could forget about what she wanted, or needed.

She reminded herself that she had once let her feelings take control of the wheel, and she had hurt and disappointed so many people in the process. She allowed love to excuse her discarding all morality, and what she knew to be right. She could never make that mistake again. She could never lose control over herself and her life like that, no matter how strongly she felt. She had to let reason dictate her actions.

“I know we just met, and under some pretty extreme circumstances.” Mulder began. “But I think extreme circumstances are often the best way to discover who people really are - what people are really made of. Do they act with self-interest, hate, anger or fear? Or do they care for others, show bravery, strength and kindness? I’m happy to vouch in your favour, if you can’t. You’re good, Dana, believe me.”

Scully sighed and looked away, wondering if he would still say that if he knew what she had done. Then again, he did know. She’d already told him about Daniel.

“Thank you.” She answered. She looked like she wanted to say more, but decided not to.

“So. Any ideas?” Mulder asked, sounding almost playful.

“I guess we should make a campfire, with the little light we have left. It’s going to get cold soon.”

“Too bad we don’t have any marshmallows.” Mulder chuckled.

“We do actually… in the backpack.” Scully smiled. “When was the last time you ate?”

“I don’t remember.” He answered. Food was rarely on his list of priorities these days. “Yesterday. Maybe.”

“You don’t know?” Scully asked, standing up and walking over to the backpack.

“No. I was unconscious for most of it.” Mulder answered.

“Heroin?” She asked, rifling around through the contents of the bag.

“Scotch.” He answered. He wasn’t addicted to either substance, only used them when he needed to accomplish complete apathy.

“Here. Eat this.” Scully said, handing him a granola bar.

“No. It’s yours. What if we are stuck here for days? I will not let you, and subsequently your baby, go hungry on my account.” He pushed her hand away.

“I’ve had four contractions in the past two hours. I need you alive. Even if you have no interest in living.”

“Are you saying you’re in labour?” He asked. His concern was evident.

“I’m saying it’s a possibility that I may be soon. While I’d like to believe that I can handle childbirth by myself, I know of the potential complications that could arise and I’d like someone to be there for my baby should any of those occur. What’s more is I’d like not to go through that alone.”

“You won’t have to.” Mulder said, earnestly. “I promise.”

“Good.” Scully answered. “Eat.”

She tossed the granola bar at him, and Mulder picked it up. He peeled away the layer of plastic film covering it, and nibbled on the corner of the bar. It tasted like cardboard, but Mulder thought it would probably have tasted much worse if his body wasn’t so hungry. He was grateful for it nevertheless.

“Here?” Scully asked, pointing to the ground a couple of yards away. Mulder nodded, his mouth full of oats and dried fruit.

Scully sat on the ground and began digging with a large flat rock she had found on the ground. She kicked and cleared any debris away from the surrounding area and began assembling sticks into the form of a tepee within the shallow pit.

“You look like you’ve done this before.” Mulder said, wincing as his muscles protested against him sitting up.

“Not in a long time.” Scully answered, adding small bits of kindling underneath the tepee. “But that’s why I came up here.”

“To go camping?” Mulder asked, swallowing another bit of the cardboard snack.

“Partly.”

“What’s the other part? If you don’t mind me asking.” Mulder didn’t want to pry, or push her, but part of him desperately wanted to know more about her and what made her tick.

“I wanted to feel close to my father. I lost him early this year. Being in the woods, near the water and trees… it’s where I feel his presence. Growing up we moved around a lot, depending on where my father was stationed. But wherever we went, we would visit places nearby that were like this. It was a home of sorts. I was a bit of a tomboy, I guess. My brothers and I would spend all day running and playing in the woods. My father would take us out fishing on a boat.” Scully stood up and walked over to collect the fuel can. “I hated it… fishing.” She continued. “I hated being confronted with the fact that sometimes things have to die in order for others to live. But I loved him, and the time spent with him, so I pretended to love it.”

Scully poured a tiny amount of fuel on the dry twigs and leaves. She pulled a box of matches out of the pocket of her jeans and struck the match against the box. The fire ignited as she quickly dropped it down before the fuel had a chance to evaporate. Mulder watched in silence for a few minutes as she stoked at the flame, and added more dry grass to catch it alight.

“I think I came out here to ask for his forgiveness.” Scully said, suddenly, watching the flame as she spoke.

“Forgiveness for what?” Mulder asked, trying to sound gentle and not pushy, though he was eager to know.

“For disappointing him.” She answered, flatly.

“I find it hard to believe that you could disappoint anyone, let alone one of your parents.” Mulder answered completely faithfully. He couldn’t imagine having higher hopes for a child than to become a specialist doctor who works at saving the lives of sick children. On top of which she was beautiful, intelligent, kind and immensely strong.

“He knew what Daniel was. _Who_ he was. I did too, long before I could admit it to myself or anyone else. I knew I had been wrong. I knew I had made a mistake… that I had been manipulated. But I couldn’t stand the idea that I had caused such hurt and disappointed the people I love and have it all be for nothing. I didn’t want to admit what a fool I had been. I needed to be right. The day that he died, I had spent the day with him. My parents had visited for dinner at the end of the holidays. My father knew I wasn’t happy. He knew it was a farce. But I insisted. I insisted that I was right, and that he was wrong. Two weeks later I discovered I was pregnant, and ever since then all I can think about is how ashamed I am. Ashamed that I let my pride and ego create this divide between us when he was alive. My father is the only man who has ever loved me, I’m certain of that now. And I failed him.”

The way her voice faltered when she said the words ‘failed him’ broke Mulder a little inside.

“Dana. We all make mistakes.” Mulder gestured to himself. “I’m Captain screw-up over here.” He raised his hand to identify himself. “But if your father loved you as you say he did, then he’s already forgiven you.”

“How do you know?” She asked, sadly.

“Because he is your father.” Mulder said, softly.

“My brother still isn’t speaking to me. The last time I saw him was at my father’s funeral, and he made his feelings about me quite clear. I don’t know that he’ll ever forgive me.”

“Just to clarify… we’re talking about you having an affair with a married man, aren’t we?” Mulder asked, confused why that would be any concern of her brother’s.

“Daniel was in the process of obtaining a divorce. At least that is what he had told me. I’m still not sure if that is the truth or not. I never could bring myself to face her.” She admitted, stoking at the rising flames.

“I hate to be blunt, but your brother kind of sounds like an asshole.” Said Mulder. Scully gave him a begrudging smile. “What business is it of his who you choose to have relations with? And who is he to be the judge, jury and executioner?”

“He’s always been that way. With my father being deployed so much, he believed it was his duty to be man of the house while he was away. He saw it as his responsibility to not only watch out for us but to keep us in line. That perception of higher ranking and authority over his younger siblings never left him. I do believe he only wants what’s best for me, but that element of control and superiority he feels means we’ve never been able to relate to each other as siblings should. I do miss him though. I’m sad to think that my child won’t have the family he or she deserves.”

“That child is going to have you as its mother. I’d say that’s one lucky kid.”

The last of the light was all but drained from the sky now - it was a mix of dark purple and blue. The fire was crackling and illuminating the surrounding forest floor in a soft orange.

Scully stood up, walked over to him and sat down beside him.

“You should put your shirt back on. You’re going to be eaten by mosquitoes, if you haven’t been already.”

“I think that’s the least of my worries right now.” He said, gesturing to his broken limb.

“Arboviruses are no joke, Mulder. The most common in this area is the West Nile virus. While the majority of people infected show no symptoms at all, a very unlucky few experience severe reactions. The list of potential side effects include severe headache, high fever, neck stiffness, seizures, meningitis, encephalitis, coma, paralysis and death. So I suggest you apply this insect repellent and cover up.”

Scully reached into the backpack sitting beside her and handed him a roll on mosquito repellent.

“What about you?” He asked.

“Already applied before I woke you up.” She explained.

“Damn.” Mulder muttered under his breath.

“What?”

“I was hoping you’d ask me to rub it on for you.” He joked, although he was completely serious. “Of course, I’d probably have a bit of trouble with that.” He gestured to his bandaged hands.

“Yes that would be a problem.” She glossed over the first openly flirtatious remark he’d made to her, though she felt the excitement of it flutter in the pit of her stomach. “It might be best if you just roll some onto your neck to keep them away from your face. You’re going to need to sleep in your jacket to stay warm, so your face is going to be your only exposed skin.”

“Got it.” He nodded.

Scully went and collected his jacket while he awkwardly unscrewed the top of the repellent and rolled it onto his neck.

“Here.” Scully said, leaning down beside him with his shirt and jacket in hand. She held out the armhole of his shirt so he could insert his hand, and slid the length of the sleeve up his arm. She then moved behind him and helped guide him into the other sleeve. It wasn’t long before she was back at his side and starting to button his shirt.

“Thank you.” Mulder said, warmly.

“For what?” She asked, refusing to make eye contact with him, but somehow acutely aware of the way he was looking at her.

“Taking care of me.” He answered, giving her a grateful smile.

“It’s my job.” She answered, dismissively. She knew looking him in the eye would be a dangerous move. She was already feeling incredibly tempted to throw herself at him - something that was completely out of character for her to do. Most of her decisions in life were well thought out and meticulously planned. Impulsivity was not in her nature, and so her feelings towards him confused her. If she were to look into his eyes and see a want for her there, it just may break her.

“Let me know when you start to feel cold, and I’ll help you put on your jacket.”

She continued to repeat to herself that he couldn’t possibly be attracted to her while pregnant with another man’s child.

“Definitely not feeling cold right now.” He said, the suggestiveness of his comment not escaping her notice. Scully quickly finished fastening the last button, which happened to be at the crotch of his jeans. She moved away, as fast as possible, distracting herself by tending to her medical bag. She went and collected the torch from the small pile of supplies.

“Can you hold this for me, please?” She asked, switching the torch on and handing it to Mulder.

“Of course.” He answered, taking the torch and aiming it at her medical bag. “What are you looking for?”

“It’s been over four hours. We need more painkillers.” Scully answered.

“Strange. I feel better than I have in years.” He said, meaningfully. “Broken bones aside.”

She checked and double checked the labels of the medication under the light of the torch, afraid she might accidentally give him the wrong medication. She gave him the pills and took her own, sipping on the water bottle before handing it to Mulder to share.

Scully then reached for her backpack and rifled through its contents. Mulder could hear the crinkling sound of her pulling out something in a plastic packet. She held it up for him to see and Mulder aimed the torch at it, revealing a large bag of pink and white marshmallows.

“Toasted?” She asked.

“Sounds great.” He answered, smiling at her in the dark. “But I think I’m going to have trouble reaching from here.”

“I’ve got it.” Said Scully, shoving two huge marshmallows on the end of a stick.

She couched down by the fire and held the marshmallows above the flames.

“What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?” Scully asked, concentrating on the way the flames licked and bubbled the surface of the fluffy treat.

She wasn’t certain why she’d asked. Perhaps she was feeling vulnerable at having been so personal with him earlier, or perhaps she just wanted to know the darkest parts of him.

“I’m not certain, but I’m pretty sure it was injecting a potentially lethal amount of drugs into my system in the morning, before passing out behind the wheel of a car in the afternoon and running a pregnant woman off the road.” Mulder said. “I’m finding it difficult to recall anything that even comes close to that.”

Scully scoffed to herself.

“Something with intent.” She said.

“I had sex on the grave of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.” Confessed Mulder. “Though it’s not so much the act itself that I regret, but rather the person I committed the act with.”

“Who was she?” Asked Scully, somehow feeling an illogical twinge of jealousy.

“Her name was Phoebe Green.” Mulder answered. “We attended Oxford University during my tenure there.”

“And?” Scully stood up and walked away from the fire, before sitting down beside Mulder. She held out the slightly charred sugary treat for him to remove from the stick.

“And she did everything in her power to manipulate, control and destroy me. I was too foolish to see it. Especially demoralising seeing as we were both studying the same field of criminal psychology. I shouldn’t have been so blind to her motivations, and I still have trouble reconciling that fact.” Said Mulder, removing the top marshmallow with his left hand. “Ouch. It’s hot.”

“All of the injuries you’ve suffered today and a marshmallow is what finally draws a complaint out of you.” Scully said, removing the bottom marshmallow and bringing the sticky mess to her mouth.

“I’ll take fractured bones over potential burns any day.” Mulder said. “My ego typically deters me from admitting this… but I’m deathly afraid of fire. This is about as close as I’m comfortable being, without worrying that I’m going to spontaneously combust into flames.”   

“But you were the one who suggested the fire this afternoon.” Scully said, confused. “You seemed quite determined.”

“Because we have to get you and your baby out of here.” He said. “Whatever it takes.”

“Did you love her?” Scully asked, placing the stick down beside her.

“No. I was blinded by my attraction to her. But that wasn’t an attraction based on love. I’ve never been in love with anybody, but I’m under the impression that it requires trust, loyalty and sacrifice. With Phoebe it was always as though I was facing an opponent, playing against competitor in a never ending game of cat-and-mouse. That was the allure of it. But she was never a partner. She never cared for me. It was always only about how powerful I could make her feel by bending to her manipulation and will.”

Mulder hadn’t wanted to tell her any of this, but felt it may comfort her to know that she was not alone in placing her wellbeing in the hands of the wrong person.

Scully didn’t reply, just nodded her head and laid back on the blanket. He did the same as she reached into the packet of marshmallows and stuffed one into her mouth. There was very little to see in the low light, he could just make out the shadows of the tree tops against the midnight blue sky. It was a clear night and a handful of stars peeked through the leaves of the trees.

Mulder thought about asking her if she had loved the father of her baby, and if she still did. But he could sense the subject was a raw one at the moment, and didn’t want to cause her any more pain.

Mulder could hear Scully’s hand reaching into the bag. He was caught off guard when a moment later there was a squishy feeling pressed against his lips. He opened his mouth and sunk his teeth into the marshmallow and Scully retracted her hand. It was a lot harder to chew than the ones melted by the fire.

“Thanks.” He said, after swallowing the last of it.

“You’re welcome.” She said, her hand searched around in the dark for a moment before grasping onto his forearm, the same way she had earlier in the day.

Mulder began silently reprimanding himself for thinking of this woman in ways he had no right to. She needed him, but not in that way.

She was successful, beautiful, sensitive, caring, strong, intelligent and brave. Any man in his right mind would fight tooth and nail to be with her, and he was certain there were plenty of more worthy men than him out there, who actually had something to offer her.

“Do you still love him?” Mulder asked before he could stop it coming out of his mouth.

“No.” She answered, in almost a whisper. “I never did. Because the man I had believed that I loved never existed. He flattered me with his affections and absolute devotion, and I let myself be swept away by it. I lost myself. I still feel lost all of these years later… like there was another path I was supposed to walk down. But it’s far too late to journey back and set things as they were meant to be.”

“Who do you think you should have been?” He asked, with a tenderness in his voice that made her melt.

“The person who would have admitted my mistakes and walked away.” Mulder could feel her fingers pressing firmer into his skin.

They laid there in silence for a few moments, with only the sounds of the forest filling the night air.

“You know… I thought about joining the FBI once.”

“Really?” Mulder was definitely surprised, though the more he thought about it the more he could picture it. She certainly had the resilience, intelligence and resourcefulness to work for the bureau. “What stopped you?”

“Daniel.” Scully answered. “He said it wasn’t conducive to us starting a family, even though we had no immediate plans to do so. I didn’t want to have children until I was at least in my thirties and had established a home and progressed in my professional life. My family also didn’t approve.”

“It’s too bad.” Said Mulder. “You’d have made a great partner.”

“You think so?” She smiled to herself.

“I get the sense that you’d be able to keep me in line.”

“I get the sense that you need someone to keep you in line. Judging by the stubbornness and determination you’ve displayed today.”

“Tip of the iceberg, Agent Scully.”

Scully imagined what her life would have been like as Mulder’s partner. What would her life have been if she had displayed the same determination he did, and pursued a career in forensic medicine?

“Tell me about your work. I know you’re bound by law not to disclose certain information. But I’d like to know more about what you do.” She said, softly.

“Given that that work has driven me to become the spectacular failure you’ve witnessed today, I’m not sure it’s something you would like to hear about.”

“I would.” Scully insisted. “I’d like to understand how a man with so much potential seems to think so poorly of himself.”

“Aliens.” Mulder answered. He regretted it the moment he said it. He didn’t want her to know what an absolute crackpot he was. She may even think he was dangerous or delusional if he told her some of the things he believed. Things he _had_ believed, anyway. He didn’t believe in anything anymore. Only that the truth was so elusive that no one could ever hope of attaining it.

“What?” Scully asked, as if she may have misheard him.

“My sister was taken, in an event of which I long believed to have been extra-terrestrial in nature. My parents were visiting the neighbours. We were watching TV and playing a game Stratego. The power cut out. The house shook. There was a blinding light and then my sister was gone. I watched her, frozen and unable to move, float through the window of our living room, never to be seen again.”

Scully didn’t say anything, but after a moment she began stroking his arm reassuringly with her fingers.

“You don’t have to believe me, Dana. I don’t even place any faith in that memory anymore. Perhaps it was an idea my mind fabricated to cover up some other traumatic event that occurred that night. I don’t know anymore. But the pursuit of evidence to support or deny that memory has been my life’s work. I’m kind of like one of those crazy guys who host late night radio programs exposing UFO abductions and government conspiracies, except I work from the inside. Amongst my colleagues I’m somewhat of a joke. They call me ‘Spooky Mulder’.”

This new information had thrown Scully for a loop. She had no idea how to respond. She couldn’t say that she believed his memory to be true, as she had never seen any evidence to suggest to her that alien abductions were anything more than delusions and unmitigated falsehoods. Given that he was only a child at the time, it seemed entirely possible that his subconscious mind had created the memory to protect himself from remembering what had truly occurred.

“That name should tell you everything you need to know about how I’m perceived at the bureau. If I wasn’t good at what I do, and turned up the results that I have, they would never have tolerated me as long as they have. I investigate cases that involve purported paranormal phenomena. All for some desperate hope of uncovering the truth about what happened to my sister. That, Dana, is why I am the way I am.” Mulder said, laying the pathetic reality of his life out there for her to see.

“Tell me about the results that you speak of.” Scully said, knowing there was more to this man than his perceived shortcomings.

“My investigative methods have led to the successful recovery of three missing children. All three were abducted by men unknown to them, all were sexual predators, and all three of the girls were still alive when they were found. Statistically that’s considered impressive.” The tone of Mulder’s voice told Scully that he disagreed that it was any great accomplishment. “I’ve uncovered evidence that was missed in dozens of cold cases. Bodies have been recovered and families allowed to finally put their children to rest. I’ve broken cases that countless others have worked on. I wrote a monograph on the occult and serial killers. This led to the capture of Monte Props, six years ago. Dozens of other violent criminals have been put away due to my skills as an analyst. I seem to see things that other people overlook. Either because they aren’t educated enough, ignorant, or too careless to examine the evidence thoroughly.”

“So, your skills essentially saved the lives of those little girls. Not to mention countless others who may have had their lives stolen by the criminals you helped put away.” Scully pointed out.

“Yes. But it’s not enough. It can never be enough.”

“Because none of those girls was your sister.” Scully said. It was a statement, rather than a question. She could sense his pain, and she truly felt she understood now, what it was that made him so different than anyone else she’d ever met. “I’m sorry, Mulder.”

“Thank you.” He whispered, softly.

Scully sat up and reached over in the dark, fumbling to get a grasp around the handle of the torch. She turned it on, stood up and walked over towards her sleeping bag and blankets. The air was starting to get cold very rapidly now that the sun had gone down. Fall was only a few days away and the nights were beginning to get chilly.

Scully picked up the sleeping bag and blankets and brought them over to where Mulder was lying. Mulder could see the silhouette of her body, illuminated by the fire. He heard the sound of the sleeping bag being unzipped and supposed she was going to roll it out beside him. He was surprised when a moment later, the unzipped blanket landed on top of him, spread out over him like a heavy quilt. She then placed the lighter blanket over the top, hopefully providing them both with enough insulation for the night.

She left his side again to search around in the duffle bag, which Mulder still was unsure of the contents of. When she returned to his side she had slipped on what appeared to be a light cotton jacket. Scully rolled up the other blanket into a long flat log and placed it on the ground, lifting Mulder’s head up with her hand and placing it underneath. She then climbed under the sleeping bag beside him and took the rest of the blanket log for her own pillow.

“Are you comfortable?” She asked.

“Amazingly so, considering.” Mulder answered. Her head was just a few inches away, as she snuggled up beside him to keep warm.

“I have a few complaints about the mattress, to be honest. It’s hard as a rock.” Scully joked.

“Next vacation we should request the honeymoon suite. I hear those waterbeds are nice and comfy.” Scully smiled to herself, picturing the two of them laying on one of those ridiculous beds. “What’s in the duffle bag?”

“It’s my hospital bag for when I go into labour.” Scully answered. “Just changes of clothes for me and items for the baby. Baby clothes, diapers, wipes, swaddling blankets, bottles in case I need them, breast pads, toiletries, books, other stuff that I can’t remember right now.”

“What books?” Asked Mulder.

“A book on pregnancy and labour and Moby Dick.” She answered, sleepily. Her exhaustion from the day’s events was starting to become evident.

“Moby Dick?”

“My father used to read it to me as a child. I called him Ahab and he called me Starbuck.” Scully answered, with a hint of sadness in her voice. “I wanted it to be the first story I read to him or her.”

“And what will your nickname for the baby be?” Mulder asked. “Queequeg? Daggoo? I put my vote down for Pippin.”

“Those all sound like dog names.” Scully chuckled, but was touched that he was familiar enough with the story to remember the names of Ahab’s crew.

“Much like ‘Fox’.” Mulder pointed out.

“I like the name ‘Fox’.” Said Scully, in complete sincerity.

“I know what you’re thinking, Dana, but I forbid you to name that poor defenceless child after me.” Mulder teased.

“Okay, ‘Fox’ is off the table.” She agreed.

Scully sat up and turned on the torch. Reached for her notepad and scribbled down the time that read on Mulder’s watch.

“Everything okay?” Mulder asked.

“Yes. Movements once or twice an hour.” She said, placing the notebook back down.

“Contractions?”

“Just one in the past hour. Nothing to be concerned about unless they are regular and closer together.” Scully answered.

“Maybe you should give me the crash course in labour and delivery just in case?”

“I will walk you through it if it should come to that.” Scully assured him.

Scully silently prayed that she would never come to be in that position. Though she doubted his attraction to her in her current state, she was certain it would forever remain an impossibility after witnessing her give birth. She’d delivered enough babies to know that urine, faeces, wind, vomit and tearing were all possibilities during labour. It was about as far from sexy as one could possibly be. Not to mention that childbirth without medical aid on hand could be fraught with dangers.

“I’m supposed to visit my mother tomorrow, and she’ll be expecting me around midday. Worst case scenario, someone should be looking for us late afternoon. We have enough food, medicine and water to last us a couple of days. We should be fine as long as you don’t develop an infection, which you shouldn’t as long as we keep up the antibiotics and change your dressings regularly.”

“How are you feeling?” He asked.

“Slight headache still. Exhausted. Otherwise fine.” She answered with no hint of self-pity.

“Shouldn’t you sleep?”

“Debateable. A person’s mental state should be monitored for days after head trauma, but frankly, even if I did have intracerebral haemorrhaging there is nothing that could be done to help me out here.”

Scully took a drink from the nearby water bottle and stuffed another marshmallow into her mouth. She then laid down beside Mulder and turned onto her side.

“Are you okay?” Mulder asked. Wondering if something had happened that made her face away from him.

“Yes. I can’t stay on my back for very long.” Scully explained. “The weight of the uterus during pregnancy can compress a major blood vessel, called the vena cava. This can disrupt blood flow to the foetus, so it’s best I don’t lie on my back for a prolonged period. ”

“Oh. I see.”

“Why?” Scully called over her shoulder. “Worried I was mad at you?”

“Terrified.” Answered Mulder, smiling to himself. “What about monitoring little Pippin?”

“The baby hasn’t shown any signs of distress.” She pointed out.

“I could take over for you. Keep my hand on your belly and feel for the kicks.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary.” Scully answered. Now she was the one smiling to herself.

***

She was freezing. Scully shifted uncomfortably, wishing she could curl up into a ball and protect herself from the elements. Her belly wouldn’t allow that however. The ground beneath her was now as cold as it was hard.

She had seriously underestimated how cold it was going to become, the thin jacket doing little to keep her warm. The gentle breeze had now picked up and become a substantial nuisance. The cool air invaded the gap in the blanket between her shoulder and Mulder’s. It hit her upper back and made her shiver. There was no chance of sleep while she was this uncomfortable.

“Dana? You alright?” She heard Mulder mumble. It sounded as though he had been sleeping too, or at least trying to.

“I’m freezing.” She whispered.

“Do you want my jacket?” He offered.

“No offence, Mulder, but I’d rather freeze than smell that jacket again.” She gave a slight giggle.

“I don’t blame you.” Mulder answered, feeling slightly ashamed. Not about his lack of hygiene so much as not being able to provide her with a warm, clean jacket.

“Put your arms around me.” Scully practically demanded.

“What?” He asked, surprised by the request.

“Put your arms around me. It’s the only way we’ll stay warm enough to get any sleep.”

Mulder wriggled closer towards her and slid his hand underneath her, wrapping himself around her. His foot protested the movement while he found a way to get comfortable. It didn’t take long as she wriggled backwards into him and found his nose pressed into the nape of her neck.

“Is this okay?” He whispered, gently. He wasn’t sure how comfortable she was with letting him do this.

“Yes.” Scully muttered back.

“You’re sure?” He checked again, wondering if maybe she was half asleep and not really thinking clearly.

“Yes.” She said a little more emphatically this time. Tired but able to register how charming his uncertainty and respect for her boundaries was.

“Okay.” He said, surrendering to the new found warmth spreading through him that was due to more than just her body heat.

He spent the next fifteen minutes wrestling with the urge to press himself into her and kiss her neck. But once he felt the baby kick against his hands, he forgot about that primal urge, and was filled with a different kind of want.

There was a deep and powerful need within him to keep her safe. She felt so small in his arms, and though he knew she probably possessed more strength than him, he would do anything to protect her and the baby growing inside her. He would die for either of them, without question.

He wondered to himself what it would be like to have this for the rest of his life. Even here on the cold ground of the forest floor, with his broken limb shooting pain signals to his brain, he felt more a peace than he ever had. This made more sense to him than anything had in the longest time. It felt right in a world where he had convinced himself that nothing ever could be right. He said a silent vow to be there for this woman and her baby, in any capacity that they may want or need for as long as he should live.

***

Scully dug her fingernails into the skin of her arm. She had woken a few minutes ago, warm and impossibly comfortable considering her sleeping arrangements consisted of the cold, hard ground and a man she barely knew wrapped protectively around her.

She could tell he was sleeping from the deep, steady breathing against her neck. As she had shifted, she noticed the hard bulge trapped within his jeans pressed against her backside, and it was taking everything she had not to arch herself back into him in response.

She could feel her arousal growing and pooling between her thighs and she wondered if there was any possible way she could reach her hands down there and stroke herself into a sweet release without him noticing. It was hard to manoeuvre around her belly as it was.

She swallowed heavily, trying to will herself back to sleep, and continued to ignore the sensations filling her body. When she realised that was not going to work, her rational mind set about trying to talk herself out of everything her body was screaming at her to do.

_He’s not even attracted to you, he’s asleep and has no idea you’re even here. You can’t have sex with him, it could trigger labour. He’s injured and sex could be painful for him. He doesn’t feel anything for you, he just feels pity for you because you’re pregnant and alone. If you sleep with him, you’ll get attached, and he’ll leave you as soon as the opportunity arises. The man is a mess and the last thing you or your baby need is for you to become involved with someone so unstable. You barely know him. He doesn’t love you. He won’t ever love you. If you love him, he’ll abandon you._

Her internal reprimanding worked to control her actions, but had the undesirable consequence of breaking her heart just a little. Her body and spirit both craved his touch, his affections and love, but her mind was the designated driver. It was her mind which she put her trust in, so as she would never be washed away and lost again, like she had been with Daniel. Still her soul cried for Mulder, and for its want to connect with him.

Before she could stop it, tears were welling in her eyes. Then she was sniffling, and her body took over into a gentle sobbing. She tried to remain quiet and still herself, so as not to wake him.

“Dana?” She heard him mumble into her neck. “You okay.”

“Yes.” She answered, trying to steady her breath.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, she could hear the concern in his voice and it made her insides ache for him even more.

“Nothing.” She muttered. “It’s just been… a long day.”

She could feel his awareness grow and he shifted his hips away from her. Scully was partially relieved and partially dismayed by the loss of contact.

“I know it has. But we’ll get out of here tomorrow. It will all be over soon. Not long from now you’ll be holding that baby in your arms and you’ll forget any of this ever happened.”

Mulder pulled her closer and she felt her anxiety melt away. She fell back asleep in a matter of minutes, savouring the feel of him all around her.

***

“Fuck.” Mulder tried his best to stay quiet as he crashed painfully into the ground. It turned out to be not nearly quiet enough as Scully shot up from the position she was sleeping in.

“Mulder?” She asked hauling herself over onto her other side to face him. “What’s the matter?”

“Just blinding pain. Nothing to worry about. Go back to sleep.” He said, half joking, half entirely serious.

“What happened?” She asked, alarm flooding her voice.

“I had to pee.” Mulder said flatly.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” I could have assisted you.” She sounded as frustrated as she did concerned.

“And lose my last thread of manly dignity? No, thank you.” Mulder answered, the pain evident in his voice.

The sky was light now and the birds were singing. Judging by how low in the horizon the sun was, and the orange tint to the sky, she guessed it wasn’t long past sunrise.

Scully went right into doctor mode, crawling over on her hands and knees towards his foot. She reached for her medical bag for a pair of gloves before carefully unwrapping his foot. She’d seen a plethora of horrific injuries during her medical training, but it hit her so much harder to see someone she knew and cared for in pain.

The swelling and discolouration had increased since yesterday, but his movement of the injury didn’t seem to have worsened the displacement of the bone.

“How are you feeling?” She asked, gesturing him to move forward and pressing her hand against his forehead.

“My foot kinda hurts.” Mulder answered, giving her a slight smirk.

“Any nausea or fatigue?” She asked.

“No. I feel alright.” He assured her.

“I’m going to take your temperature.” She informed him.

“Not the old fashioned way I hope. If I have to take off my pants you have to take off yours.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

“Oral thermometer.” She said pulling the instrument out of her bag. “Put it under your tongue.”

“You had me at oral.” Mulder silently chastised himself for the sexual innuendos. The truth was that while physically he felt beaten, mentally and emotionally he felt better than he had in years. He felt playful, and something that was even verging on happy. He’d just spent the night wrapped around a beautiful redhead, when reason said he should have been dead yesterday morning.

Scully smiled and shook her head at him as she placed the thermometer into his mouth.

“Fever could indicate possible infection, though the amount of swelling and discolouration is typical for this type of injury. I’m going to change your dressing now.”

Scully applied a fresh sterile pad and clean bandage, taking a break to remove the thermometer from his mouth when it made a beeping sound.

“Your temperature is normal.” She announced, placing the thermometer back into the bag. “I think you’re going to be okay.”

“How are you feeling?” Mulder asked. Scully was busy removing the medications from their respective packs and bottle.

“I feel good, actually. A little stiff and tired. But my head feels fine.” She passed him the medications and the remains of an almost empty bottle of water. “I’m not going to take anything. I don’t need it.”

Scully stood up and walked over to the remaining pile of supplies to collect two more bottles of water for them. Mulder nonchalantly turned to watch her bend over.

As she walked back over towards him, she froze in place, both of the water bottles tumbling onto the forest floor.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, panicked by the look of concern on her face.

“My water just broke.” She answered.

***

Mulder’s eyes darted to her crotch on their own accord. He could see the wet patch spreading and darkening the denim fabric.

“Oh my god.” Mulder said, the alarm he felt was evident by the tone of his voice.

“Don’t panic.” Scully said. Although she wasn’t sure if she was speaking to Mulder or herself. “Even after the rupturing of membranes, it can take days for contractions to start.”

“But you’ve already been having contractions.” He pointed out.

“The fact is that we still may have another day or even two before this baby is born.” Said Scully, trying to reassure herself as much as Mulder.

Mulder noted how she had used the word ‘we’ in regards to the baby being born, like he was a part of the process. That both terrified and overjoyed him.

Scully picked up the paper pad from the blanket and jotted down the time her water had broken. It was seven fifteen. She had no idea how close her contractions had been during the time she was sleeping. She placed the paper and pen into the back pocket of her jeans and picked up the can with the small amount of fuel left in it.

“I’m going to go relight this fire. I should only be gone for about half an hour. It’s only five minutes walk from here.”

“Dana…” Mulder started.

“I’ll be fine, Mulder.” Scully cut him off, knowing he was going to express some concern or insist that he should do it with his broken limb. “Women have been working up to the point of delivery for as long as mankind has existed, and they are often able to go right back to working as soon as the baby arrives. I’ll be back soon.”

Scully walked over to him and gently ruffled his hair with her fingers.

Mulder watched her as she walked away. He knew she was right, in that women were built for this. He knew her slight stature in no way indicated that she was weak and fragile. Most of the women he had worked with over the years were so much stronger than the men he encountered on the job. Maybe it was because they had to be. But mostly they possessed a resilience and emotional intelligence that seemed to be lacking amongst his male counterparts. He remained convinced that men were - as a collective - the weaker sex.

None of this stopped him from worrying however, and he knew for the entirety of the time she was gone he would resisting the impulse to stand up and go after her. The last thing she needed was to be treating him because he did something reckless.

***

Scully pressed her hands up against a tree, trying to brace herself through the pain. Her last contraction was only six minutes ago, and she was now seriously concerned. She’d had four contractions in the last half hour and that was very much an indicator that this baby wasn’t going to wait until they were rescued.

She had managed to build the fire up to the extent it would probably keep burning for a few hours without additional fuel. But part of her was convinced it was a complete waste of time. If nobody had seen it yesterday, or reported Mulder’s car yesterday, then why should they today? Her mother alerting authorities was their best hope, but even once that happened, there would be no leads for the police to follow if Mulder’s car was gone.

It was far too late to begin hiking out of here by herself. Even if she had any idea which way to head to reach help, and assuming she had the physical endurance at this point, she couldn’t leave Mulder alone, or risk giving birth alone, in case there were complications. She was dreading going back to ‘camp’ and informing Mulder.

She trusted him. She wasn’t sure how it was possible that she could, especially this quickly, but she did. But even so, she wasn’t ready for him to see her in such a vulnerable position. She contemplated just staying here and giving birth in private. She pictured returning to Mulder in a few hours, with a baby in her arms, and imagined the look of shock on his face. She knew that wasn’t an option however, as complications may arise. She could not trust that she would be in a condition to catch the baby, and she needed to sterilise the birthing area as best she could in order to prevent infection.

Scully removed her jeans in order to relieve herself and discovered the remains of her mucus plug on her underwear. They were already soaked with her amniotic fluid so after she put her jeans back on she walked over and tossed them into the fire.

She stood and watched the flames for a few moments. They were licking higher, and the grey and white smoke billowed up and dissipated into the air. She prayed someone on the road above was driving past at this moment, and seeing the smouldering cloud.

***

Scully wandered back to their mini-camp out looking as calm as possible. She needed to stay calm, so that he would.

Mulder sat up when he heard her approach, and she witnessed the look of relief on his face when she came into sight. She smiled at him. His heart ka-thunked in his chest. There was a simultaneous feeling of relief and excitement.

“How did it go?” He asked, his eyes following her as she passed him and went straight to her duffle.

“Burning bright. Should be fine for a few hours.” She said as she sat down on the fallen log and began unzipping the bag. Mulder watched as she pulled out what appeared to be a change of clothing and sat it beside her.

She unzipped her jacket and tossed it aside. He was shocked when a moment later she stood up and began removing her shirt, pulling it over her head. She turned to face away from him, and she began unfastening her bra, which she freed from her arms and placed on the pile. Mulder wasn’t sure if he should be looking away, but it seemed his eyes had no intention to. She was close enough that he could see the freckle patterns on her beautiful milky skin.

Scully reached for a large, pale blue shirt and pulled it onto her body. It was so oversized that it came down to her lower thigh. He then watched in amazement as she unbuttoned her jeans and slid them down to her ankles, stepping out of them.

Mulder wondered if she was wearing any underwear underneath them. An answer received a moment later when she began sliding on a pair of black panties with a lace trim. Mulder knew he shouldn’t be thinking about sex at a time like this, but he couldn’t switch off his attraction to her. If her water hadn’t already broken he’d like nothing more than to lay her back against that log and lick her until she screamed.

His attraction only increased when a moment later she turned around and saw a New York Knicks logo on the front of the shirt.

“My contractions are becoming longer, more painful and more frequent. I’m just getting prepared.”

“What?” Mulder asked her in disbelief.

“They are now averaging every five minutes. Active labour is characterised by strong contractions that last approximately forty five to sixty seconds and occur every three to four minutes. There’s a good possibility that I may be there shortly. Perhaps Pippin doesn’t want to wait.” She said stroking her belly though the oversized shirt.

Mulder looked at her rounded tummy and gave her an uncertain smile. It wasn’t that he was afraid of what he had to do, he was deathly afraid for her and her baby if something should go wrong. What if a medical emergency should occur and he had no way of assisting her? He would never forgive himself if anything happened to either of them.

Scully picked up the pillow log she had made for them to sleep on the night before and unfolded it. She doubled it over twice so she had a large blanket pad four layers thick and about a yard wide each side. She placed it down on top of the tartan blanket. She then took out a packet from her medical bag that contained a thin protective pad, like the ones used on hospital beds, and laid it over the top.

“For later.” She informed Mulder. He nodded and smiled at her. If this was going to happen he had to do his best to comfort her, instead of relying on her to reassure him.

Scully balled up her fists in pain, trying not to cry out, as she leaned on all fours. Mulder leaned over and put his hand on her back. He struggled to see her in pain and not be able to do anything about it.

After the contraction had passed, she dropped down onto the blanket, lying on her side.

“What should I do?” Mulder asked.

“There’s not really much for you to do. Not yet. I’m going to need you to catch the baby, when it’s time. Don’t pull - the contractions will do all of the work. You’ll have a blanket set out beside you to place the baby in. You are going to need to help clear the baby’s airway by stroking gently down on the baby’s nose with a clean cloth. This will help expel any excess mucus and amniotic fluid. After that, rub the baby down all over - this will encourage the baby to breathe. Then you are going to place the baby face down on my chest, against my skin, and wait until I deliver the placenta. After that the cord will need to be tied and cut. I will do that myself, but if I am not in the position I will walk you through it. I have surgical tape in my medical bag that we can use.”

“You make it sound so easy.” Said Mulder, taking her hand into his. She smiled and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

***

“Fuck!” Yelled Scully, writhing in pain. She was back to labouring on all fours and her contractions were almost on top of each other. It had been four hours of her pacing and moaning. The pain was so intense now, that she made no effort to hide the level of her discomfort from Mulder. It took her a moment to realise that she could no longer hear his voice. “Just keep reading, no matter how loud I scream.”

He was sitting beside her, stroking her back and soothing her in any way he could. He continued to read from the page before him.

“Then come out those fiery effulgences, infernally superb; then the evil-blazing diamond, once the divinest symbol of the crystal skies, looks like some crown-jewel stolen from the King of Hell. But let us to the story. It came to pass, that in the ambergris affair Stubb’s after-oarsman chanced so to sprain his hand, as for a time to become quite maimed; and, temporarily, Pip was put into his place. The first time Stubb lowered with him, Pip evinced much nervousness; but happily, for that time, escaped close contact with the whale; and therefore came off not altogether discreditably; though Stubb observing him, took care, afterwards, to exhort him to cherish his courageousness to the utmost, for he might often find it needful.”

Scully reached down and put her hand between her legs.

“Mulder. I can feel the baby’s head.” She panted, through the pain. She turned herself over and lowered herself onto her back, placing her buttocks on top of the blanket pad.

“Okay.” Mulder said, placing Scully’s book down beside him. He tried to sound calm, but he was very far from it. He scooted along the ground towards her feet, manoeuvring as best he could around his broken limb.

“I need you to take off my underwear.”

“I bet you say that to all the boys.” Mulder said as he snapped on a pair of gloves from Scully’s medical bag.

Scully laughed with tears of pain in her eyes.

“I will kill you, Mulder.” She said reaching down to slap his hand.

Mulder smiled as he pushed the blue Knicks shirt out of the way and grabbed the hem of her underwear. He was nervous, but over the course of the past few hours, holding her and soothing her and wiping away her tears, he felt so connected to her that the baby about to be born might well have been his own. There was no longer just fear and worry, but excitement as well.

He pulled down her underwear, and slid them all the way off her feet. He inched his way closer to her spreading her legs apart so they lay at both sides of his waist.

“Looks like Pip takes after his mommy. I think I can see ginger hair down here.”

“Really?” She asked, excitedly.

“I mean besides yours.” Mulder snickered. Scully gave him a quick kick in the ribs with her foot.

The next contraction hit and she felt the strong urge to push again.

“That’s it, Dana, I can see the baby’s forehead.” Mulder said excitedly.

“Once the head is out the baby should turn on its side, then it typically only takes one more push.” She said through laboured pants. The next contraction hit almost immediately and she cried out in pain.

“You’re doing amazing, Dana, it’s almost over.” Mulder had never seen anything so remarkable. “That’s it. We have a nose.” Mulder laughed to himself in astonishment. He wanted to cry and the baby wasn’t even born yet.

Scully was exhausted and crying - the pain was almost too much.

“I’m here.” Said Mulder, squeezing her knee. “I’m here, and soon the baby will be too. You can do this.”

She pushed once more, bearing down against the agony in her torso. The baby’s head was out.

“The baby’s turning, Dana, just once more.” Mulder was elated.

She screamed and gave every last bit of energy she had into that last push.

“That’s it!” Said Mulder, trying to hold back his tears. “He’s here.”

“It’s a boy?” Scully cried. The pain ceased almost instantly.

Mulder placed him in a white baby blanket that was sitting beside him and used the corners of the blanket to wipe him down the way Scully had instructed him to. He was wriggling and giving out a soft cry which reassured both Mulder and Scully that he was breathing.

"Is he okay?” Scully asked, attempting to sit up so she could see him

“Yeah. He looks perfect.” Mulder said, unmistakably crying at this point.

Mulder gently picked him up so that he could place him down against Scully’s skin. She pulled her shirt all the way up exposing her chest. Mulder crawled over to her on his knees not caring at all about the amount of pain that it caused. He was too awestruck by the baby in his arms and the naked woman lying before him to feel any pain.

Scully saw the tears in his eyes as he laid down her newborn son onto the space between her breasts. She cried as she put her hands around the tiny baby. She knew she would never love anyone or anything else this much in her life.

“You did it, Dana.” Said Mulder, sniffling and wiping the tears from his eyes with the cuff of his sleeve.

She smiled at him, trying not to cry herself. This was everything she’d always wanted. She no longer felt lost. Whatever wrong path she had taken in life, it had lead her back here, to this moment with this man and her child. She knew that this was right. That somehow this moment bound her to this man in a profound way, and that this connection wouldn’t be severed by time or circumstance.

Mulder left her side, but only for a moment. He took the blanket they had slept under last night and covered her lower half with it, hoping it would keep her warm enough. Though it was afternoon now, and the sun was out, the day was cooler than it had been yesterday. Especially under the shade of the trees.

“Can you help me take this off?” Scully asked, gesturing to the Knick’s shirt riding uncomfortably around her neck.

“Sure.” Answered Mulder, limping towards her. He helped her free her arms from the shirt, which wasn’t tricky, since it was sleeveless and oversized. He then pulled it over her head and laid it to the side.

Scully brought the baby to her breast to feed, and Mulder wasn’t sure if he was supposed to look away. But he could tell she was physically uncomfortable trying to sit up while supporting the baby.

“Can you support my back?” Scully asked.

Mulder wasn’t sure what she meant exactly, but he limped over and sat down behind her. He kept the leg with the broken limb out straight and bent the other one, wriggling up closer so he was pressed up behind her. She leant backwards against his chest so as her shoulder was tucked under his chin and his face was nuzzled into her hair. He could see the baby, suckling sleepily at her breast.

“Thank you.” Mulder whispered into her ear.

“For what?” Scully whispered back.

“For letting me be here for this. I never imagined this was something I would ever experience. He’s so perfect. Just like you.”

Scully swallowed back her emotions. She wanted to turn her head to kiss him, but she didn’t want to ruin what was already the most perfect moment of her life. As fatigued and uncomfortable as her body was, her spirit felt blissful and euphoric.

Mulder wrapped his hand around her side and gently placed his hand on the baby’s head, stroking his soft ginger hair with his thumb.

“Does Pip have a name yet?” Asked Mulder, his breath brushing against her neck.

“William.” She answered, softly.

“Hey. I forbade you from naming him after me.” Said Mulder, in mock outrage.

“What do you mean?” She asked, slightly confused. Though ‘William Fox’ had crossed her mind.

“It’s my middle name, and my father’s name.” Mulder informed her.

“Mine too.” Said Scully. She was surprised, but at the same time, it seemed to make perfect sense.

“Your father’s name is ‘William’?” Mulder asked.

“Yes. And my brother’s name.” Scully added.

“Well now I like the name less.” Mulder snickered. Scully laughed at his resentment towards her brother on her behalf.

“Your father, then? Is why you chose the name?” He asked, knowing how much her father meant to her, and knowing how important honouring his life was.

“The pocket knife.” Said Scully.

“What?” Mulder asked.

“Your pocket knife. It has ‘William’ engraved into it. It just seemed like a sign.” The baby was sleeping now, cradled in the blanket against her.

“Can I still call him ‘Pip’?” Mulder chuckled.

“Of course.” She answered, turning her head to the side and nuzzling her face into his neck. Mulder felt the sensation flood through his entire body. It was at this moment that he was certain he was in love with her. He found it so hard to believe she could feel anything for him though, in spite of the signals he was getting. He pulled back a little to look into her eyes. They were so soft, and blue and gentle and somehow calmed and reassured him in a way that words never could.

He moved in closer, sliding the tip of his nose along the bridge of hers before gently descending onto her lips. The kiss was soft and gentle, and warm. It wasn’t the highly charged sexual kiss of new lovers, but the kiss of two souls that had spent countless lifetimes together. Something that felt as natural and familiar as coming home after a long journey.

After a few moments he pulled away again, and smiled gently at her. He truly couldn’t believe his luck.

Scully looked back down at the sleeping baby and lifted him to her face, placing a tender kiss on his forehead.

“Can you take him?” Scully asked. “We can cut the cord now.”

“Okay.” Said Mulder, placing a kiss on her temple before he moved away.

He wriggled his way to her side and took the baby from her arms, placing him down on the blanket beside his mother. Scully laid back down on her back, exhausted.

“So walk me through this, Doc.” Mulder said. He smiled down on the little boy like a proud new dad.

“Take the tape and spray it with the antiseptic.” Scully ordered. They had already laid out everything they needed when she was in labour. Mulder followed her instructions. “Now make the first tie two inches from the baby. Firm, but not so tight it could rupture the cord. Then do the same another two inches down - so four inches from the baby.”

“Okay.” Mulder said. “Does this look right?”

“Yes, perfect.” Scully assured him. “Now swab the area between the two ties with antiseptic, and then swab the scissors as well. Then cut in the middle area between the two ties.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to do this part?” Mulder asked, nervously. He already loved this baby so much and cutting pieces off of him didn’t feel right.

“I don’t think I can right now.” Scully answered, softly.

“Alright.” Mulder answered, swallowing back doubts. He took the scissors and with gritted teeth, snipped the umbilical cord. “I did it.” Mulder said, turning his attention to Scully.

“Great. Now you can dress him.” She gave him a fatigued smile.

Mulder was delighted by this part. Though he started out by putting the diaper on the wrong way. Everything was so tiny. He marvelled at the way his little hands could wrap around his thumb. He put on a little white singlet that said ‘Mommy loves me’, followed by a blue snap-button suit, of which he fastened wrongly in two separate places. Then he gently slid a little blue hat on his head. Mulder then placed him in a clean swaddling blanket made of a fluffy yellow fabric.

“There you go, William. That wasn’t too bad, hey?” Mulder said to the squirming baby as he picked him up. A few bounces up and down and he fell back asleep.

Mulder turned back to Scully.

“Do you need me to help you get dressed?” Mulder asked, crawling over to her, manoeuvring himself with one arm and one leg - broken limb and baby in tow.

“How do I look?” She stared up at him.

Mulder placed his hand on the lovely expanse of skin between her bare breasts and her bellybutton.

“Absolutely beautiful.” He answered, in complete reverence of her and what she had just accomplished.

“Thank you.” She said, staring up at him lovingly. “But otherwise… Do I look pale?”

Mulder’s heart dropped as soon as she asked the question. He searched her face, as if he could diagnose any problem just from staring at her hard enough.

“Maybe a little.” He answered. “Why?”

“Hand me the baby.” She asked. Mulder laid the baby down at her side, in the nest of her arm. “I need you to check how much blood I’ve lost and how much I’m still bleeding. You’ll find the placenta between my legs. Just pull away the top liner from the blanket and toss it aside.”

Mulder did as he was told, and he was grateful for her clear instructions. Her competence in this situation was all he had to reassure him.

“How much am I bleeding?” She asked, as he looked between her legs.

“I can’t tell.”

“Take that white blanket and place it between my legs, so it can absorb the blood. That will help me discern if I’m losing too much.” Mulder did as she asked, trying to be gentle as he placed the baby blanket against her.

“Do you think something’s wrong?” He asked, trying to keep his voice calm and steady.

“I feel weak and I’m sweating. Some fatigue is to be expected after giving birth, due to the significant blood loss, but I feel like I am about to pass out.” She said. The weakness in her voice frightened him.

“How do we make it stop, if you are losing too much?” He asked, laying his hand protectively on her thigh.

“In hospital treatment depends on the severity of the blood loss. If a patient loses an excessive volume of blood, they are given an IV drip and if above a 30% loss a blood transfusion is required. If I am experiencing a postpartum haemorrhage, whether we can make it stop will depend on the cause. ”

“What are the possible causes?”

“The most common cause is uterine atony - failure of the uterus to contract and stop the bleeding after the placenta has separated from the wall of the uterus. This accounts for approximately 70% of cases. Injury and trauma to the birth canal causing excessive bleeding is another possibility. Less likely is placental abnormality or my blood failing to clot. In that last instance I would require a coagulant.”

“Do you have any medication in your bag that can help?” Mulder was desperate to know. “What can I do?”

“Elevate my feet and give me a massage.” She smiled to herself. “But let’s just wait until I see how much blood I’m losing.”

He grabbed her duffle bag and placed it under her feet to elevate them. Mulder sat by her for the next few minutes, sliding his hand lovingly up and down her thigh. He wished he could take his gloves off and feel his skin pressed against hers.

“How many minutes has it been?” She asked.

“About five.” He answered.

“Okay. Show me.” She said.

Mulder reached in between her legs and pulled out the blanket, which was partially soaked with fresh blood. It turned Mulder’s stomach with worry. He scooted along beside her and held it up for her to see.

Her hand felt heavy as she reached to take it from him and examine it.

“Is it bad?” Mulder asked.

“It could be worse.” She said. From what she could discern, if the bleeding didn’t stop, then she was probably going to bleed to death. But it would probably be a matter of hours, rather than minutes. She wasn’t about to phrase it that way to Mulder, however.

“What do I do, Dana?” Asked Mulder, stroking her hair away from her face.

“Massage my uterus.” She answered. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but massage can possibly stimulate the contractions needed to stop the bleeding.”

“Yes, Doc.” Said Mulder as he inched his way down to her now deflated belly.

He stroked and worked his fingertips into her abdomen, which felt soft and pliable beneath the gloves. He was grateful to have something to do, and some hope of helping her. He loathed the powerlessness of inertia. Doing anything, no matter how hopeless the situation seemed, was always better than doing nothing.

“Mulder?” Scully called, sounding slightly groggy.

Mulder left his post at her abdomen and moved up to speak to her.

“Take off your left glove.” She said, staring up at him.

Her appearance sent a fresh wave of fear through him. She looked noticeably pale and her forehead was sweating like she had a fever, but her skin felt cool against his.

He did as he was told and removed his glove.

“Massage my nipples.” She said, grabbing his wrist and guiding his hand towards her breast.

“As much as I’m honoured by this request, Dana…” Mulder started.

“Nipple stimulation during breastfeeding releases oxytocin into the bloodstream. The hormone causes the uterus to contract into its pre-pregnancy condition. I can’t feed him, because he’s sleeping and if I elevate my head I will likely lose consciousness.”

Mulder nodded and got to work, sliding his fingertips in a circular motion over her soft, pink nipple. She closed her eyes. He didn’t ask why she wanted him to remove the glove first. He’d have really enjoyed this under different circumstances, but he was too afraid for her wellbeing to be aroused. Though part of him hoped it was bringing her pleasure - or at least comfort - to have him touch her.

She opened her eyes after a few minutes and smiled at him weakly. He couldn’t bring himself to smile back however.

“What is it?” She asked, softly.

“Did I do this to you?” He asked, with a heartbreaking look on his face.

“No. I don’t think so.” She croaked back. “If it was trauma or placental abruption caused by the crash I don’t think he would be as healthy as he is. Postpartum haemorrhaging isn’t a rare occurrence; it just rarely has disastrous consequences due to adequate medical care. This would probably have happened in the hospital.”

“I’ll never forgive myself.” Said Mulder, solemnly.

“I know. But I will… Just keep my baby safe. He’s all that matters.” Said Scully, turning her head to look down at her sleeping baby.

“Don’t talk like that. Please.” He used his gloved hand to softly stroke her hair. Scully nodded in recognition.

“Kiss me?” She asked, tenderly.

Mulder leant down and gently pressed his mouth against hers. He was surprised when she parted her lips and slid her tongue against his. God, he loved her so much. He couldn’t lose her, he just couldn’t. His left hand still stroked and teased her nipples, desperate for them to stop the bleeding that was slowly draining the life from her.

“Should I suck on them?” Mulder asked. Half-joking but completely willing if it would save her life.

“Only if you are curious what colostrum tastes like.” She smiled.

“What’s colostrum?” He asked.

“It’s what breastfeeding mothers have when they start lactating. Like beginner milk.” She explained. “If I pass out you can still attach him to my breast.”

“You’re not going to pass out.” He assured her.

“I’m the doctor, Mulder. I can tell you that I am going into hypovolemic shock. My pulse is rapid. My blood pressure is low. I’m weak. I’m sweating. I’m cold.”

“You’re cold?” Mulder twisted himself around and reached for the bright red sleeping bag. He spread it out over the top of the blanket that was already covering her from the waist down. “Do you think you can drink?” He asked.

“I need to try.” She answered, honestly. She knew she needed an IV drip, but since that wasn’t available, replacing fluids orally was vital. Mulder put his hand underneath her head and helped elevate her enough to drink a little from the water bottle, though most of it spilt down her mouth. “We’ll try again in a few minutes.” She said as he replaced the cap back on the bottle.

“Should we dress you, to keep you warm?” He asked.

“No. It will be too hard to feed him.” She answered, as the baby began to squirm and fuss. “I need you to lift him onto my breast.”

“Okay.” Mulder said, reaching across her body to take the baby from the crook of her arm.

With a lot of awkward manoeuvring between Mulder, Scully and the baby they managed to attach the baby face down onto her nipple. Mulder could tell the position was causing her pain, but he hoped the baby feeding might help stop the bleeding. William drank for about fifteen minutes before falling back asleep.

“Should I take him?” Mulder asked.

“Yes. But he’ll probably want more soon. Newborns feed a lot, but they also sleep a lot.” Said Scully.

Mulder put the baby on his shoulder and gently patted his back. Scully couldn’t help but think about what a good dad he would be.

“If the worst happens… There are bottles and some sample packets of baby formula in the duffle bag. You can mix it with the bottled water.”

Mulder knew what she meant by ‘worst’ and he didn’t want to hear it.

“I have to climb out of here.” Said Mulder, looking determined.

“You can’t.” Said Scully. “You can’t climb with him - it’s too dangerous - and you know you can’t leave him alone with me.”

“Dana, you can’t ask me to just sit here and watch you bleed to death.”

“You don’t have a choice. You can’t leave him alone.” Scully started sobbing. “You can’t leave me alone… Please, Mulder.”

Once Mulder saw her fear about being left alone to die, any thoughts of leaving her were off the table.

“I won’t. I promise.” He said, gently.

Mulder set the baby back down at her side. He then moved to look directly into her eyes, hovering with his face above hers. He wiped away the tears that had built up and spilt down the sides of her face. She was finally letting him see all of her vulnerability and fear. She was silently begging him to be everything she needed him to be for her, and he refused to let her down. He tried to pour all the love he felt for her into her mouth, as he brought his lips to hers and sunk his tongue into her. He felt her respond, carefully massaging his tongue with her own. Mulder had never felt such an intense fusion of joy, love, fear and desperation.

It took him a moment after she had stopped responding to realise that she was no longer conscious. A wave of terror flooded through him.

“Dana?!” He said loudly, bringing his hands up to grasp her shoulders. “Dana!” He called again, giving her shoulders a gentle shake.

She was still breathing - he could hear the shallow, laboured pants. He pressed his fingertips into the side of her neck, searching for her heartbeat. Her pulse was weak and rapid. He could feel his insides being torn apart. Being forced to sit here and do nothing but watch her fade away was the worst torture that could be inflicted on him. He’d rather walk through the blazing inferno that had plagued his nightmares since childhood. No amount of fear or pain could surpass losing her this way.

Mulder climbed under the blanket and laid down beside her, wrapping himself lightly around her bare torso, being careful not to rest any of his weight on her. He hoped he could keep her body temperature from dropping and keep her alive through sheer will.

“Come on, Dana. You can beat this.” He whispered into her long, ginger hair.

He held onto her, listening to her shallow breaths and praying each one would not be the last. He gazed at the shiny golden cross that hung around her neck. If her God did exist he certainly had a sick sense of humour. He was meant to die yesterday, yet somehow he survived. Was it only to take the life of one of his devoted followers? To rob a child of his mother? To take from the world the most beautiful and generous soul he had ever encountered? Was that his destiny? His punishment perhaps?

***

Mulder poured the milky powder into the baby bottle filled with lukewarm water. He had put the water bottle he used to fill it up on top of a flat rock. Though it was overcast and the skies now looked threateningly grey, the day was warm enough that the rock collected more heat than other surfaces.

He shook the bottle of formula in one hand, while he tried to rock and soothe the baby in the other.

“Okay. It’s okay, Will.” He said placing the teat of the bottle in the baby’s mouth. “Mommy’s just resting, so this will have to do little Pippin.”

Mulder smiled at him, trying to reassure himself as much as the baby. Scully’s lips had turned blue, and all of the colour had drained from her face. He was scared that at any moment now he was going to check on her and she would be gone. He was sure she was fighting. But he wasn’t sure how much longer she would be able to hold on.

He changed the baby’s diaper and rocked him gently back to sleep. He placed him down on a little nest made out of Scully’s clothes and baby blankets that he’d removed from the duffle bag.

Mulder then crawled back over to Scully. Her appearance hit him like a stone.

She was gone.

He could tell before he reached for her pulse and felt nothing. He could tell before he listened for her breathing and heard nothing. It wasn’t her body’s abnormal colour or lack of movement. The integral part that made her, her, was missing. Her spirit… her soul… whatever it was... was gone.

Mulder could feel it.

Mulder’s mouth plummeted over hers as he held her nose and breathed into her.

“Come on, Dana. Don’t do this. You have to fight.” He said as he pumped desperately onto her ribcage.

Breathe. Breathe. Pump. Pump. Pump.

“William needs you. Please.” He breathed into her again, willing her to return to her body.

Tears were rolling down his face, not willing to believe or accept that this could truly be happening. He’d waited for her his entire life… the one person in this life that he would never have to doubt. He could just look into her eyes and see the truth written there.

“Come on. Breathe.” He practically shouted at her.

“Dana… Please.” He was sobbing now, the tears falling onto her face as he leant over to breathe into her.

“Please.” He cried, his pressure on her ribcage easing as he slowly accepted that he was not able to bring her back.

He fell onto her. His heart and soul shattered into a million pieces. He placed his head on her chest and gave a desolate cry.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” He wept. “Please forgive me.”

He held her lifeless body close to him, desperate not to let her go. He stroked her hair and kissed her face in the same way he would have when she was alive.

“I’m sorry.” He said once more, laying his head down beside hers, his nose pressed against her ear. “I love you.”

His eyes were wet and filled with pain. He closed them and tried to steady his breathing. He never wanted to leave this place. He wanted to lay here and die at her side. He knew he wouldn’t, and he couldn’t, because her baby needed him to keep him safe. But if he had a choice, that’s what he would have done.

“I will get him out of here. I promise.” He whispered into her ear. “Whatever it takes.”

He closed his eyes again and nestled into her, sniffling softly.

“I had you big time.” She croaked, barely audibly.

Mulder shot up to look at her face, and make sure he hadn’t imagined it.

Her eyes fluttered open, but only for a moment. He could see the edges of her lips curl up slightly, like she was happy.

Mulder’s fingers shot to her neck again. He could feel her heart beating - still weak, but definitely there. He put his hand on her chest and felt it rise and fall. He felt sure he was hallucinating. She had been dead, he was sure of it.

“Dana?” He said, nudging her slightly.

She opened her eyes again, and they fixed on Mulder. She was aware enough that she recognised the tears in Mulder’s eyes and what they meant.

“Anybody miss me?” She asked. He laughed and cried and dug himself into her shoulder. “William?”

“He’s fine. I gave him a bottle and changed him. He’s sleeping again.” Mulder said, stroking her hair. “You were gone.”

“But I came back.” She whispered.

“You did.” He smiled and kissed her forehead.

Mulder heard the sound of twigs snapping behind him. He turned around to see a park ranger approaching them.

“You folks need help?” He asked.

***

“His name is William. William Scully.” Said Mulder as he reluctantly handed over the baby to the paramedic.

“Is the child yours, sir?” He asked, taking the baby from him.

“No. She’s his mother.” Answered Mulder, gesturing to Scully. “I helped deliver him.”

Scully was being wheeled into the doors of the hospital, paramedics trailing behind her carrying everything that had been hooked up to her during the emergency airlift.

“Sit down, sir.” One of the hospital staff said, as they ushered him into a wheelchair. “You’ll be heading straight to radiology.” They’d already done their preliminary examinations on the ground and in the air.

“I need to stay with her.” Protested Mulder.

“I’m sorry, sir. ICU has strict visitation policies. She’ll be allowed visitors once she’s in a stable condition.” He explained, wheeling Mulder along behind Scully.

“What about the baby?” Mulder asked.

“He’ll need to be examined over in the maternity unit.”

“Can I stay with him?” Mulder asked.

“I’m sorry, but if you’re not a family member, we can’t allow that.” The man patted him on the shoulder. “Look, I know you’ve all been through a lot out there, but it’s time you all focus on getting the treatment you need.”

Mulder nodded, knowing full well as soon as he was left alone, he’d find the both of them.

***

Mulder felt groggy. Whatever they had pumped him with had one-upped the heroin because he could barely keep his eyes open. He wasn’t sure how long he had been out of surgery. His foot was cast and he was hooked up to an IV. Still, he managed to pull himself into a sitting position.

He had to find them. He had to know she was alive and breathing, and he had to let William know he wasn’t alone.

The police would want to speak to him as soon as he was able, and that was fine. He was ready to go to jail, but he had to know Dana and her baby were going to be okay before they took him away.

Mulder pulled the drip out of his arm and reached for his badge, which lay on the bedside table. It was the one thing he had brought with him, as he knew the power it gave him to access places the general public couldn’t. Though wheelchair-bound and in a hospital gown, his authority was sure to be questioned.

He peeked through the slit of the door, hoping there wouldn’t be any hospital staff outside.

He managed to pass the nurses desk without anyone acknowledging him, but he was certain getting into the intensive care unit wouldn’t be so easy.

The ICU was on another level and on the other side of the hospital. His arms burned with fatigue and his bandaged hands ached as he finally rolled into the waiting room outside the ICU.

He pushed his way through the doors, kicking them open with his good foot. He wheeled himself down the hallway looking through any open doors or clear windows.

“Can I help you, sir?” Asked a woman with a stern look on her face. She appeared to be a nurse or orderly.

“Fox Mulder. FBI.” He answered as confidently as possible, and flashed his badge. She examined the badge closer than most people, as if she wasn’t sure whether or not it was real. Given his appearance Mulder didn’t begrudge her doubt. “I need to speak to Dana Scully about the accident in which she incurred the injuries that led to her admittance here.”

“I just came from her room. She’s with her family at the moment.” The woman answered.

“It will only take a moment.” Mulder assured her.

“Very well. You’ll find her in room eleven.” She gestured towards the end of the hall.

Mulder’s heart was beating faster due to more than just the physical exertion. Just hearing that she was still here on this earth, and he hadn’t dreamt her into existence, was a comfort to him.

He wheeled himself up to room eleven, but stopped at the shuttered window. They were open just enough for him to see into the room. He maneuvered himself up closer so he could see clearly through the plastic slats.

He could see her in the corner of the room. Her bed elevated her into a sitting position, which he supposed meant her blood pressure must be stable. She was hooked up to heart monitor and an IV drip. Even from a distance Mulder could tell she looked so much better - healthy even. Her face looked plump and skin coloured, not a deathly shade of white, like when he had last seen her. She was beautiful and the smile on her face made her even more beautiful.

Suddenly his view of her was obstructed by a man pacing back and forth by her bedside. He was holding a baby in his arms, rocking him just as he had done for William. Mulder supposed it was William and that was what was making Dana smile.

The man looked older than Mulder, probably by around fifteen years, which would make him almost twenty years older than Dana. Mulder wondered if this was William’s father, and the married man she had had an affair with. The man leant down and kissed Dana on top of the head, and Mulder couldn’t help but look away in disgust.

Then he began to wonder if she would be bothered by this breach of her privacy. He felt he should leave now. Spying through windows felt wrong to him, and he didn’t want to intrude. Well, he did want to intrude. He wanted to be able to walk - not roll - into that room and throw his arms around her. Make her feel every bit of love and passion he felt for her. But he knew that wouldn’t be right. He would go to federal prison soon, and having known her would help ensure he made it out of there alive. He could be grateful for that. That she was okay, and that William was okay, was all he could have hoped for, and fate graced him with that gift.

***

Washington D.C., October 13th

5.36 p.m.

Mulder shifted his back against his leather couch, still bewildered how he was laying here watching Caddy Shack instead of behind bars. Confessions apparently counted for nothing when there was no hard evidence and contradictory witnesses.

He’d only been held in remand for a few days when they told him he was free to go. The rental car that he had left atop Skyland Mountain was discovered a week after the accident. It was found abandoned, burnt out and presumed stolen.

The drug test that they performed on him found traces of opiates in his system, but it could not be proven that such results weren’t found due to the medications they had administered at the hospital, or the medication that Scully had given to him in the forest.

His boss had testified that he was unstable and not of sound mind, and that his confession was unreliable. He wasn’t sure why Skinner was trying to protect him, especially considering his conduct at work the past year. Given the circumstances, he definitely owed him one.

But above all he was certain that he owed his freedom to Scully. She had stated to the arresting officers that she had been speeding, that she had never seen his rental car, and that he was the good Samaritan and well respected agent of the law who risked his life to save her and her baby.

So here he was, waiting for pizza to arrive and drinking beer on his 33rd birthday… a free man.

He hadn’t seen her since that day at the hospital room window, and not an hour went by where he didn’t think of her and William. He wondered if she had reunited with the old guy, now that they had a new baby to bond over. It hurt to think about. But it soothed him to think she was alive and happy. She would be back to work soon, helping sick children fight cancer and making the world a better place. That is what he wanted to do. Make the world better somehow. Now that he had renewed faith that it could be better.

There was a knock at the door and Mulder grabbed his wallet off his coffee table, taking out some cash as he headed to the door to pay the pizza guy. He had gotten a hang of the crutches now.

“Dana?” He sounded as shocked as he looked. Scully stood at his door looking slightly nervous and holding a baby carrier in her hand.

“Hi. I hope this isn’t a bad time.” She said.

“No. Not at all. Come in.” Mulder was cursing himself for the state of the apartment. He never cared too much for cleanliness or organisation. But he had a strong suspicion that she did. “Have a seat.” He said, ushering her to the couch and throwing a bunch of clothes out of the way.

Scully sat down and placed the sleeping baby on the floor in front of her. When she looked up and saw the way Mulder was looking at him, her heart fluttered.

“You can hold him when he wakes up.” She smiled. “I just got him to sleep. He’s been very fussy today.”

“He’s changed so much already. I can hardly believe it.” Said Mulder in awe, as he sat down on the floor next to the baby carrier and Scully’s legs.

“I know. I feel the same way.” She said, smiling down at the baby.

“How did you know where I live? I’m not listed.” Mulder asked.

“I have a friend who works at that hospital. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Mind? Are you kidding? This is the best birthday present I could have asked for.” Said Mulder, stroking William’s little hand with his thumb.

“It’s your birthday?” Asked Scully, sounding surprised.

“Yeah. And incredibly I’m not spending it behind bars.” Mulder said pointedly. He turned his head to look up at her. “Why did you lie, Dana?”

“I didn’t lie.” She said, flatly.

“You said you were speeding.”

“I was speeding.” She insisted.

“No you weren’t.”

“Prove it.” She smiled at him. He smiled back.

“Thank you.” Said Mulder. “I don’t deserve it. But thank you.”

Mulder pulled his hand back and lightly stroked her knee with his knuckles.

“How are you feeling?” Asked Mulder. “You look so much better.”

“Thanks a lot.” Said Scully in mock indignation.

“For the record, you are gorgeous even when you are dying from massive blood loss. But living is a good colour on you.”

There was a moment of silence that held more weight than words could have.

“Why didn’t you come visit me?” Scully asked. He could hear the hint of vulnerability in her voice, like she was ashamed to have expected that of him. “I mean, before you were arrested.” She smirked.

“I didn’t want to intrude.” Said Mulder.

“What do you mean?” She asked, confused.

“I did stop by when you were in the ICU. But you already had company.”

“Daniel?” She asked, a look of trepidation crossing her features.

“If that’s the name of the old guy, then yeah.” Said Mulder.

“Things are over between us. His refusal to accept that is out of my control. I’ve made my feelings clear for the past nine months. He just kept insisting that I would feel different when the baby came.”

“And do you?” Asked Mulder, praying the answer would be ‘no’.

“No. I’m as certain as ever that Daniel sees William as a way of manipulating and controlling me.” There was a definite tone of resentment in her voice.

“How so?”

“He knows that I can’t stand the idea of being separated from William. He has attempted to make me feel guilty, in any way that he can. Telling me that it will hurt him coming from a broken home. Telling me that I am selfish but that he loves me regardless. Telling me we can have the family we always dreamed of, if only I would see reason.”

“I’m sorry.” Said Mulder, rising off the floor and sliding onto the couch beside her. He put his hand on her knee to comfort her. Scully stared at his hand for a moment and then slid her own hand on top of his.

“Did you mean it, Mulder?” She asked, quietly. Her gaze fixed on their adjoined hands.

“Mean what?” He said, tilting his head to the side.

“What you said to me in the mountains.” She answered, sounding even more unsure of herself. It was an unusual tone for her, since she usually spoke with so much confidence.

“What did I say?” Mulder had said a lot of things, he had no idea which thing in particular she was referring to.

“Forget it.” She said, shutting down after her moment of boldness.

“Tell me.” Said Mulder, giving her knee a reassuring squeeze.

“I shouldn’t have come here. I’m sorry.” She said, pulling away and standing up.

“Hey.” It was a lot harder for Mulder to get to his feet, but he managed to do so without falling. “Dana. It’s okay.” He said, grasping her shoulders. “Please don’t go.”

She looked up at him with tears and sadness in her eyes. Those watery blue pools could keep him captive in a way he’d never known.

“Back at the mountain… you said.” She looked away. “You said that you loved me, and I just wanted to know if that was true and if that was still the case.”

Mulder’s mouth dropped open in disbelief.

“You were dead, Dana. Your heart had stopped. You weren’t breathing.” Said Mulder, in bewilderment.

“So you didn’t mean it.” She stated. It sounded matter-of-fact rather than accusatory.

“I meant it, Dana... I still mean it.” Said Mulder, with as much conviction in his voice as he could muster. “But how could you have possibly heard that?”

“I don’t know, but I did. I think that’s why I came back...for you and William.”

“For me?” Said Mulder, amazed.

Scully nodded. Her vulnerability was evident, and it made Mulder’s heart ache uncontrollably. He reached out and pulled her towards him, folding his arms around her. She fit so perfectly and snuggly under his chin. He couldn’t believe what was happening. That she would come knocking on his door, wanting to be loved by him, was beyond any birthday wish that he could have dreamt up.

“I saw my father.” She whispered against his chest. “He told me that we would be together again one day, but now wasn’t my time.”

“That’s incredible.” Mulder mumbled into her hair.

“You don’t have to believe me.” Said Scully.

“But I do.” Said Mulder, pulling away from her and cupping her face with his hand. He smiled at her before bringing his mouth down to meet hers. She was as desperate for his kiss as he was for hers, and parted her lips immediately.

She’d thought about him every day, trying to convince herself that he didn’t care for her and that she could forget about him. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t forget the way he had held her, and caressed her and grieved for her. She couldn’t forget the way he looked at William, with such amazement and joy in his eyes. She couldn’t forget how he came to life when she loved him.

Their union was interrupted by a knock at the door, followed by the baby starting to cry. Mulder pulled away and gave her a knowing grin.

“That’ll be the pizza.” Said Mulder gesturing behind him, at the door.

“I’ll get it, you get him.” Scully reached for the cash Mulder had set out on the table.

“Can I pick him up?” Mulder asked, enthusiastically.

“Only if you sit down.” She grinned, eyeing the cast on his foot and reminding him that he shouldn’t be on his feet.

Mulder sat down and unfastened the straps that held the baby in the carrier. He slid his hands underneath him, supporting his head as he brought him towards his chest.

“Hey, Pip. Long time, no see.” He said, as he bounced the baby up and down in his arms. William opened his eyes and Mulder marvelled at the same glorious shade of blue that were his mother’s. He seemed so much more alert and aware than when he had last seen him. His face was rounder and he was more plump all over. The ginger hair he remembered looked even redder in the light of his apartment.

“I take it you don’t bother with plates?” Said Scully, sitting the cardboard box onto the coffee table and sitting on the floor.

“Wasn’t expecting company, or I would have sprung for some nice paper ones. Help yourself.” Said Mulder, too focused on the baby to care about food.

“Thank you. I’m starving.” She said, pulling a slice out of the box and taking a tiny bite from the end.

“Admit it, Scully.” Said Mulder. Scully turned her head to look at him, wondering what he was speaking of. “You only slept with the old guy because you wanted the kid.”

He knew it was a risky joke, and that her feelings for Daniel must have been substantial for her to compromise her values. But he was pleased when she reacted the way that he’d hoped - dropping the pizza away from her mouth and looking away, stifling a giggle.

“Can’t say I blame her.” Mulder whispered to the baby.

“You’re going to be old one day.” She pointed out.

“But we’ll be old together.” He said, with more meaning than originally intended.

She smiled and took another bite of pizza.

The baby began to cry and Mulder found his gentle bounces weren’t doing anything to settle him.

“He’s hungry.” Said Scully, tossing the remains of the slice of pizza back in the cardboard box. “Do you want to feed him?” She asked, knowing he’d probably be overjoyed to.

“Does that mean you won’t be taking off your top?” Mulder asked, emphasising his disappointment to make her smile.

“Due to trauma my body went through, my milk supply never came in.” She said, sounding disappointed.

“I’m sorry.” Said Mulder, squeezing her shoulder. “But it’s a miracle you are even here at all.”

“Do you have a microwave?” She asked.

“In the kitchen.” He said, nodding his head towards the kitchenette of his apartment.

Scully microwaved the pre-made bottle for a few seconds, tested the temperature and handed it to Mulder.

“Here you go, buddy.” He said, placing the nipple into the baby’s mouth. William stopped crying immediately. “He’s so perfect, Dana.”

“You may not say that after you’ve changed a few diapers and spent all night trying to get him to sleep.” She said, taking a seat on the couch close beside him. She couldn’t get enough of seeing his face when he looked at the baby, and she wondered which one of them Mulder had loved first.

“I’ll still say it.” He assured her. “Maybe one day, when we’re old, he’ll return the favour.” He nudged her shoulder and smiled. He was fast falling in love with the idea that he could be a second dad to this little boy.

William finished the bottle, and Mulder instinctively put him over his shoulder and patted his back.

“You can put him back down now. He’ll be out for a while.” Said Scully, knowing the milk-induced coma would give them the break she was waiting for.

Mulder placed the little boy back into his carrier, and watched as he squirmed for a second before falling back asleep.

Scully stood up and walked around the coffee table.

“Do you think you can make it to the bedroom?” She asked, eyeing his crutches. Mulder’s heart pounded with excitement.

“It’s only been three weeks.” Said Mulder, not sure how long healing took after birth. “Isn’t it too soon?”

“There is a slight risk of infection up to six weeks. But the highest risk was during the first two weeks.”

“I don’t want to take any risks with your health, Dana. Especially after everything your body has been through lately.” It pained him to deter her, but what he needed more than anything was for her to be safe and healthy.

“I understand.” She said. “Can we just lay together, then? They do tell new mothers to sleep when the baby sleeps.” Scully was remembering the night he held her, and felt him pressed up against her. She wished she could go back in time and take what she wanted. She could have died without feeling him inside her, and that fact had sat uncomfortably with her since she had woken up in the hospital.

“Of course.” He said, stumbling onto his feet and reaching for his crutches. He felt entirely resentful of the cast on his foot. With his awkward and slow movements, he couldn’t feel less sexy if he tried. He was grateful that at least his hands had healed, and he could enjoy the feel of her skin against his.

As he reached the door to his bedroom Mulder savoured the sight of her crawling onto his unmade bed. She was wearing a white cotton blouse and a dark burgundy pencil skirt that hit just above her knee. He couldn’t help but admire the way it hugged her backside as she spread out on his sheets. He could already tell this was going to be more challenging than he anticipated.

Mulder left his crutches by the bed and climbed onto the mattress. When she didn’t turn around to face him he guessed that she wanted him to hold her - which he was more than happy to oblige. He slid his arm underneath her, and she wriggled back against him. His hands wrapped around her waist and his face buried into her neck.

This was all she’d wanted… all she’d craved for the past three weeks. The last time she could recall seeing him was on the stretcher before she was lifted into the air. He’d promised that he wouldn’t leave her, or her son, and she’d found comfort in her belief in him. Even when he didn’t come to her in her hospital bed, she still believed him. Though her conscious mind tried to reason her into dismissing their connection as a temporary product of necessity, her heart refused to let go.

She’d felt so smothered and misplaced since she’d been home. Daniel was pressuring her into an intimacy she couldn’t feel and would never feel again. Her mother and sister were hovering and doing even the simplest of tasks for her. Her brother Bill and his wife had made a brief appearance in an awkward display of self-righteous pity. She felt trapped in a reality that was not her own, and all she could think about was escaping into the arms of the man who displayed such devotion and love for her. The connection between them was like an invisible thread which tugged and pulled at her, drawing her back to him. She couldn’t ignore it, and she felt it even now.

She turned around in his arms and pressed herself up against him, submerging herself in the comfort of his warmth. He smelt different than he had the last time they had been close like this. There was hint of soap or aftershave, and he’d obviously showered recently. She nibbled at the skin of his neck, tasting it with her tongue.

“Dana.” He whispered in a note of caution. He could feel himself growing hard as she shifted her hips up against him. “This isn’t playing fair.”

She ignored him with a smile, and trailed her lips along his jaw and up to his mouth. She sunk her tongue into his mouth, so hungry for him that she knew it wouldn’t be enough. He responded by hugging her against him and rolling onto his back, bringing her with him. He spread his legs apart and she grinded her hips against his crotch as she placed languid kisses down his chest.

Scully pulled his tight white shirt up, exposing his abs, which she licked and tasted with her tongue.

Mulder was overwhelmed. He fully doubted his ability to say no to her at this point. It was more than just his own want - he felt an ardent need to satisfy and connect with her. That she had come here today, and that she wanted him the way that she did… it was frankly, incomprehensible. What had he done to deserve the affections of such a woman? This sexy, intelligent and immensely forbearing little firecracker.

She pushed his shirt up out of the way, gesturing for him to take it off. Mulder sat up and allowed her to pull it over his head. As she lifted it off his arms and threw it aside, he jumped in to kiss her again. His mouth lapped at hers hungrily as he unbuttoned her blouse and pulled it open, exposing her bra and tummy. She wasn’t wearing a maternity bra, but one made of white lace and soft satin.

As they continued to kiss she reached for the hem of her skirt, wanting it gone, so she was free to wrap her legs around him. She pushed him backwards so she could lie down and wriggle out of her skirt. She pulled it down over her legs and kicked it onto the floor.

“Dana?” Said Mulder, panting through the kisses she was placing on his mouth as she straddled his waist. “Do you think we should calm down a bit here?”

“No.” She said, reaching down into his sweatpants and stroking him outside his underwear. “I want you.” She said, whispering into his ear. “I want you to fuck me.”

He had never been so aroused in his life, being spoken to that way by the woman he loved so desperately.

“What about the safer alternative? For now?” He ventured. As long as he got to hear her scream and pant in ecstasy, he could wait… He could wait three more weeks. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

Mulder rolled her off of him and onto the bed, crawling onto his knees and suckling at the skin of her stomach. He ran his lips all the way down to the hem of her red underwear. He pulled the elastic down and ran his tongue along the line of her panties.

One hand grasped the top of them while his other hand ran up the length of her thigh, her fingers tangled through his hair and he could feel the slight pressure of her pushing him downwards to where she wanted. But he wanted to tease her a little before he gave in.

He pulled her underwear down past her ginger curls, nuzzling her hair with his nose and mouth. Her scent made his mouth water in anticipation. Slowly he slid her underwear all the way down to her toes. Though he had already seen her naked - in various positions - this felt like the first time. Not because she looked different, but because she wanted to be with him and wanted him to see her. There was an excitement now that had not been experienced before, only spurred on by the tenderness he felt, and desire to please her and love every inch of her.

His lips and his tongue played along her inner thigh, nipping and teasing playfully. She was moaning and writhing already, and he grabbed onto her legs to pin her in place. She reached her hands down to spread herself apart, and Mulder seized the opportunity and dipped his tongue inside her. He licked and searched with the tip of his tongue to find the little nub that would drive her into ecstasy. Mulder knew he’d found it when he heard a desperate gasp escape her lips. He couldn’t help but smile in the satisfaction of causing it.

His tongue danced back and forth, heightening her arousal with every stroke. Scully knew that it wouldn’t take much, given how turned on she was before he’d even touched her, but she tried to hold on and savour it for as long as she could. One hand played through his hair and the other clasped desperately onto the sheets of his bed.

“Come for me, Dana.” Mulder mumbled against her, between soft, languid strokes.

That was the sentence that brought her completely undone.

“Mulder.” She whimpered, writhing and panting as she came. Tears welled in her eyes, not just from the physical pleasure, but from the joy of knowing she had found the man her soul belonged to.

He crawled up beside her and gently cupped her face with his hand, stroking her cheek tenderly with his thumb. She gazed up at him, her breath starting to calm, and she saw all the love he had for her written on his face. She felt so lucky to have found him, and she wanted him to know just how grateful she was.

She leaned up and kissed him, just as desperate to express her love for him now as she had been before she climaxed.

“Lay down.” She whispered, her eyes communicating everything she felt for him.

He laid down on the bed beside her and reached out and stroked her hair away from her face. His heart was bursting with love and gratitude. She raised herself off the bed and onto his chest, crawling on top of his body. His arm reached around her to the back of her bra, which he unfastened with expert-level skills. He pulled the bra down her arms, exposing her chest.

“Can I lick these now?” He chuckled. “I’ve been waiting so patiently.”

She giggled and nodded, remembering him sitting beside her, trying to save her life with the dance of his thumbs across her nipples.

Mulder leant up and suckled at her breast, sliding his tongue all around her while he cupped and teased the other one. Scully moaned and plummeted her lips down onto his, kissing him deeply and lovingly.

Her lips trailed down his neck, her hand reaching down, caressing his abs and moving lower until they reached the hem of his sweats. She slid her hand between his pants and his underwear and caressed his already swollen length. Mulder dug his fingers into her back in response.

Her lips followed the trail of her hands until she reached his crotch. She kissed him through the fabric of his pants, knowing it would heighten his arousal.

Scully grabbed the hem of his sweats and his underwear and - the same as he had done for her - pulled them down just a little. She could see his head exposed and engorged, and gently caressed it with her tongue. He tasted salty and sweaty, and the way he moaned while he was in her mouth made her tingle with pleasure. She wanted him to feel every bit as good and every bit as loved as she felt.

She slid his pants all the way down to his knees, taking his underwear with it. Her mouth trailed along from his base to the tip before she took him completely into her mouth. She sucked him hard and deep, wanting this to be the best that he had ever had. Her tongue slid along his veins, bringing him closer with every thrust inside her mouth. She could feel his hands tangle in her hair. There was no force and control, but rather he communicated his affection with gentle strokes against the back of her head. When he finally spilled inside her, she felt the pleasure of his moans fill her and satisfy her in a way no man ever had. She swallowed his milky fluid down, landing with contentment in the warmth of her belly.

Scully climbed back up the length of his body and placed a loving kiss on his lips. His eyes were closed, and when he opened them to look at her, she could see that they were wet, just as hers had been. She laid all of her weight on top of him, and snuggled into his neck. He wrapped his arms around her waist, and hugged her tightly to him.

Mulder lay there, contemplating ideas of hope and hopelessness, life and death, chance and fate. He considered how every single choice, action and reaction by himself and those around him had led to them having crossed paths that day on Skyland Mountain, during his darkest hour. Was she sent to him to light the path ahead? She was his salvation - of that much he was certain. But was there a greater force that had bound their souls together long before the day they had met?

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of William crying from the living room.

“Darn. You were supposed to sleep when the baby sleeps.” He said, rolling over. Scully sat up and pulled his white shirt onto her petite frame.

“No rest for the wicked.” She said, before slapping him playfully on his backside. “Happy birthday, Mulder.”

***

Washington D.C., January 1st, 2000

12.00 a.m.

 

“It’s the New Year!” William shouted, pointing up at the fireworks that illuminated the sky.

“It’s the new millennium!” Added Mulder, grasping onto the boy’s legs. He was still small, but at six years old, he was getting quite a bit harder to prop up on his shoulders.

“You mean it’s the new Willenium.” William giggled.

“And the world didn’t end.” Said Scully, hugging her sleeping daughter against her to keep her warm. The toddler’s curly brown hair brushed against her face as Scully kissed her on the top of the head.

Mulder turned to her and smiled.

“No, it didn’t.” He said, leaning in to share what would be his favourite New Year’s kiss.

 

END

 

 


End file.
